


Wolf's Eyes

by GedankenTheory



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Blood, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence, Werewolf Bro, Werewolves, Wolves, forest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GedankenTheory/pseuds/GedankenTheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts with the wolf with the human eyes.<br/>And truly begins with myths becoming reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the Woods

It is said that to stare into the eyes of a wolf causes one to lose their soul.

Or so the stories go.

To John, they were only that: stories. Fables that couldn’t possibly be anything else but fables.

Wolves were wolves; animals that hunted to survive and worked in packs. So to consider the thought that they were capable of ripping the soul out of a person with a single stare was a ridiculous one. On the other hand, when you find yourself staring into the eyes of a creature that was perfectly gifted at tearing out your throat, you do find yourself thinking silly things.

In the case of John Egbert, this was, in fact, the same perfectly silly thing that he was currently thinking about.

Cold, shining amber eyes glared down at him, and a pair of black lips pulled back to reveal sharp lupine teeth.

The chilling breeze and fog did little to obscure the sight of the gigantic wolf. In fact, it almost seemed to emphasize just how terrifyingly monstrous it was.

The fog wrapped around John’s ankles and curled about the growling wolf’s paws. The beast stepped forward, its ears tilting in the same direction. A rippling growl rumbled up from its throat. John gulped and tried to step away as slowly and carefully as he could. Moving too fast in this kind of predicament might just spell his doom.

Being this far out in the woods, that wasn’t a good plan. Why had he even gone along with it?

Oh yeah, to impress his dad. This was one of the most fantastically thought out plans that he’d ever come up with! He should celebrate it! Really! … If he came out of this alive.

“Nice wolfie,” he said with an underlying trembling squeak. “If you can just let me pass, I’ll be on my way out of these woods and leave you well alone.” He brought his hands up as some kind of pacifier at the same time as he counted on them to defend him from the vicious beast.

The wolf snapped its jaws and slowly advanced towards him.

Heh, looked like it wasn’t buying his words. That was fine!

He bit his lip and took another careful step backward. The wolf growled in warning. He hesitated, his heart hammering in his chest. Before he had the chance to do anything else, it pounced; slamming him to the ground with such force that it knocked all of the wind right out of him.

The pain lanced up straight after, rushing through the back of his head, his spine, and his arms.

A tidal wave of fear washed over him. The only thing he could see now were those teeth. God, how can teeth _be_ so sharp…? He’d answer that if he was capable, but he wasn’t, so that went out of the mental window.

He pulled a face and mumbled, “Gross.” Thick strands of saliva were inching waveringly towards his forehead.

He tried to shift, but the heavy force of those paws and the fact that he was well and truly pinned to the floor did little in helping him to move. In the next second, a horrible goop of the stuff landed on his cheek.

“Blurgh.” He scrunched his face up. This had to be one of the worst things in his whole history of worst things.

He really should’ve just stayed at home.

Still, he wasn’t dead yet. That was good! … Right?

The wolf let out a huge exhalation of air and lowered its head.

Oh god! It was going to eat him! He should never have thought of being alive still! That was one thing that you never do in a fix like this!

But, he couldn’t just let this wolf get the best of him. No! He’d – he’d stand up to it. Well, as best as he could anyway.

With a determined expression, he defiantly stared up at the wolf.

And the wolf’s gaze fixed on his.

In an instant, John’s mouth fell open. Those eyes… they didn’t look wolf-like. They looked human.

Something bright alighted in those eyes. They widened and the wolf shifted, pulling away quickly from John.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, reaching up to brush the saliva from his cheek, then looked curiously in the direction of the wolf.

It stared back at him warily.

Silence descended like a veil over them both.

“What… are you?” John asked, cautiously getting to his feet.

The wolf made no sound, instead breathing out a puff of icy air, then it turned and sprinted away – leaving John staring after it in bewilderment.

* * *

 

The journey back to his house was a short one, filled mainly with a multitude of questions that crowded the forefront of his brain to bark out their many question mark infused words. The more that he tried to unravel them, the more of a muddle his mind became. None of it made any sense.

That wolf had human eyes.

Why?

And why hadn’t it killed him? In those few moments, that it had pinned him to the ground, John was sure that it had been ready to rip his throat out, which wasn’t really a good mental image. He wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered. He’ll just shove that into the far corners of his mind.

… The wolf had let him go.

The panic and the fear was now a numbing sensation; dragged back into the recesses of his mind to make way for his growing curiosity and confusion.

Maybe he should keep everything that had transpired a secret. He didn’t really like being secretive with Dad, yet this was kind of a weird case. It would probably be best if he didn’t tell him anything about it.

The instant he unlocked the door of his house and went inside, he was immediately blocked by his dad.

He stood with his arms folded and his mouth set tightly around his smoking pipe.

Uh oh, he knew that look… John winced. Dad was going to give him a stern talking to.

“Son, where have you been?”

“Uh, out for a walk?”

He raised a brow. “So you decided to frolic in the park along the way?”

Frolic in the park, what…? He glanced down at his muddied clothes. Oh, yeah, that. He smiled sheepishly up at him. “Oh, you know, I just thought it would be good exercise to jog around the park for a while.” He chuckled nervously.

Dad switched his pipe to the opposite side of his mouth, his raised brow lowering to emphasize his stern expression. “So I see.”

John rubbed his right arm and looked away. What should he do? Dad obviously could see past his lie… “Can I… go upstairs?” he asked, glancing back up at him.

For a moment he remained silent, simply studying John, and then he sighed and stepped out of the way. “Very well. Just promise me, John, that you will let me know before you leave the house next time.”

John nodded his head vigorously. “I promise.”

After a simple nod back from Dad, John walked past him and headed up the stairs.

As soon as he had closed his bedroom door, he heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against the frame. That had been way too close… If he’d stayed down there an extra five minutes, Dad would’ve had the full story, he was sure of it.

Still, he didn’t feel right lying to him outright like that. He rarely kept anything hidden from his dad.

Clasping his hands together, he twiddled his fingers and walked over to his bed, sitting down upon the mattress.

This stunk. He had nothing to do now… Well, except think about his time out in the woods, maybe. But, it just kept bringing up more questions than it answered, and he had no idea what to do about it anyway.

Go out and search for that human-eyed wolf? No, that’s stupid. He’d have to tell Dad that he was going back out again, and he had no idea what he’d even tell him anyway. Besides, it’d just make Dad suspicious.

Nope, the only other thing he could think of was the matter of not thinking about it! Yup, that was good.

Ooor, maybe he could search stuff about it on the Internet? That was a good idea! He could very well come up with something that way.

He got to his feet and walked over to his computer, instantly taking a seat. He twitched the mouse about a bit to pull the monitor out of its awesome Slimer screensaver, and then clicked his browser open onto the search engine.

As his fingers hovered over the keyboard, however, his mind pulled a blank. What could he possibly type? ‘Wolf with human eyes’? That sounded dumb. Would it even come up with anything? Well, apart from silly photoshopped images. Probably not.

After a few seconds of staring blankly at the screen, he decided he might as well give it a try anyway. With a shrug, he typed it in and waited.

Soon, he was greeted with a list of links and a few silly photoshopped images at the top of the page (yup, he’d been right!).

Halfway down, he clicked on an interesting looking link, which turned up with nothing. He did the same with a link on the next page, then the next link and the next... Before he knew it, an hour and a half had passed him by.

In this time he’d collected a bunch of semi-interesting stuff, all scribbled down on pieces of paper, which now lay scattered about his desk.

To be honest, he’d not really turned up with anything that good.

This was stupid!

Why had he even bothered spending so much time doing this?

He heaved a sigh and shuffled through some of his notes: ‘werewolf’, ‘super-intelligent wolf’, ‘a failed experiment…’. With another sigh, he set all of his notes aside, then proceeded to face-plant on his desk.

Why was he doing this?

He shifted a little, propping his chin on his left arm. He rubbed his nose with the heel of his hand. All of this was so surreal. It felt like he’d just ended up falling asleep and had been dreaming the whole thing up.

Maybe he had. Maybe he was actually in bed right now asleep, dreaming of being awake…

He glanced back over at his bed, and then frowned, turning back away.

No, he was definitely awake. He could still feel the aches of his impact against the forest floor.

He’d probably end up with bruises tomorrow.

 _Why don’t you try to find the wolf tomorrow?_ The thought came unbidden to his mind. A dangerous sentence that immediately forced John upright in his seat. That… wasn’t such a bad idea, actually.

As long as Dad didn’t find out about it, obviously. But, then again, he doubted that he’d be suspicious of the fact that his son wanted to go out for another walk.

John’s stomach twisted in guilt.

He still felt bad over lying to him, and he was actually contemplating lying again.

He groaned and leaned back against the chair, his arms flopping dramatically over either side of it. He was planning a dangerous thing, and, to make matters worse, a further guilt inducing thing. Although, he couldn’t help but think about it.

This was one of the most interesting things that he’d ever stumbled across. Besides being introduced to Ghostbusters and Con Air (well, anything like that film with Nic Cage in, he’s so awesome!), of course.

It was seriously crowding his mind with a plethora of questions and intrigue.

Quietly, he twirled his chair around and stood up, his expression set in a frown of determination. That settled it. Tomorrow he’d get everything ready for his excursion. He’d go out there and find out the truth!

Besides, he’d be prepared this time.

He wouldn’t end up as possible wolf food, not now that he knew that the wolf was out there.

But… he didn’t want to lie to his dad again.

He looked down at his feet, feeling the pressure of his guilt grip even tighter around him. No… maybe he should simply slip out. Tiptoe out in the early hours of the morning. He’d be back before Dad even got up!

He wouldn’t notice a thing. 


	2. Humanity

It was cold. Colder than usual in Maple Valley, which was saying something.

John hunkered down in his sweater and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d barely gotten any sleep thinking over his stupid plan, then he’d probably head back to the house. But, it was too late now. He was going down this carefully calculated route.

With his backpack well and truly secure on his back, he marched further down the road, trying his best not to think over how early it was.

Half four in the morning. Seriously, this was the earliest he’d ever been up. …Probably.

He reached up to lay a hand on one of his backpack’s straps and shoved it back into place on his shoulder. Food, water and a map. That was pretty much all he had on hand.

It was almost as if he was going camping or something. Bring a tent along and a lighter for when he needed to light up a fire!

He rubbed his cheek and sighed. This was going to be big. In fact, he’d go so far as to say, right now, that he was shaking. Just a little.

Presently, one part of his mind was screaming at him to turn back. He’d managed to escape the jaws of death yesterday, but that luck couldn’t last forever. He’d probably find that wolf and it would eat him in an instant.

Inflating his chest, he shook his head and rounded the corner. The forest was in sight, and he wasn’t going to back out now.

He had some food to bribe the wolf with anyway. Plus, he knew enough about animals in that he wouldn’t be killed or hunted down by them by doing something so stupid as turning his back on them and running. Nope, that was probably, maybe, what saved him last time.

At least, it’d helped to keep the wolf from charging him at first sight. Although, it might also have been something to do with the fact that he and the wolf had engaged in some kind of weird eye-to-eye thing that had elicited in the wolf loping away back into the woods before John could even fully comprehend what had just gone on.

He was brought away from his thoughts by the crunch of dead leaves.

He inhaled deeply and stopped. He was at his destination.

He’ll have to be incredibly careful from here on in.

Hefting his backpack, he treaded cautiously further into the environmental maze.

The forest looked so different in the morning compared to the evening; less dismal and more vibrant. Or maybe that was just him. Plus there wasn’t any fog to cloud his feet, which made for a nice change.

He glanced around, listening to the sounds of the early morning wildlife. It was quite peaceful, really. Even despite the fact that he was feeling more and more on edge as time went on; his stomach twisting in knots the deeper into the maze he went.

Maybe, maybe the wolf wasn’t here anymore. Maybe it had gone waltzing off to greener pastures?

But, what could possibly be considered greener pastures around here? Especially for a wolf.

The crack of a twig resounded through the forest and John stopped dead in his tracks. He quickly looked around. What was that?

Something rustled nearby. John jumped and twirled around to confront the noise, but there was nothing there. Just a bunch of tree trunks and one or two bushes. However, as he turned back away, a rumbling growl ripped through the air.

He gulped and clutched tightly to the backpack’s straps.

The wolf was behind him.

Oh god, he was so stupid. So dumb. Why had he even decided on coming here at this time?

He should still be in bed sleeping, not standing around out here in the forest at whatever time-it-was-in-the-morning-now.

He could feel the chilling heat of its breath against the nape of his neck. He tensed.

That rumbling growl rose in crescendo and he felt it rattle him to his very core.

This was bad. So bad.

Just as the babbling storm of panicked thoughts hit - a cold wet nose touched his right hand.

His breath hitched.

A faint crackle of sound echoed out from behind him, and then, in an instant, the wolf was there.

Standing with its deep amber eyes fixed on him.

John didn’t know what to do.

All of those possible concepts that he could’ve put to use when he finally encountered the wolf didn’t seem so relevant anymore.

It was already here.

It was during the quiet, the staredown, that John noticed that the birds had stopped singing.

He tried to calm his nerves. Tried to reassure himself that he wasn’t scared. Animals knew when you were, right? But, it wasn’t helping.

The wolf released a heavy breath and before John had the chance to react, the wolf sat down on the earthy floor.

Completely not expecting this sudden turn of events, John studied it warily. What was it thinking? Was it waiting for a show of weakness, where it would run in and finish him off before he even had the chance to think about it? Or was it simply studying him, as he was studying it?

He didn’t know. And the thought of it acting as human as that look in its eyes made him feel slightly strange. It was as if he was standing up at the same time as he was sitting down.

“Hey there,” he began weakly, lifting a hand in a half-hearted attempt at a wave. He didn’t even know why he did it. Wolves didn’t understand that gesture.

But, then again, wolves didn’t have human eyes.

It turned to look at his hand, then snorted, pulling its ears back to either side of its skull.

John was certain that, in that moment, he caught a glimmer of something similar to amusement in the wolf’s gaze. Then it was gone; the wolf tilted its head and fixed its eyes back upon his face.

“Are – are you hungry? I’ve got food,” John said.

The wolf grunted, but apart from that, it didn’t respond.

Not that it could, but there was no wag of its tail, no turn of its head, nothing. It merely continued to stare at him.

It was kind of unnerving.

Although, it was already unnerving as it was; to have a gigantic wolf sat staring at him without any possible warning when it was going to attack.

This was incredibly strange.

John shifted on his feet, feeling that his legs would end up going numb soon by just standing around in the same spot.

The wolf shifted too; it pulled its tail closer around its paws and yawned.

Even through the image of seeing those dangerously sharp teeth for a second time, John couldn’t help but smile. “Are you tired?”

The wolf stood up and shook out its fur. Without a sound, it lumbered over to John.

His breath caught in his throat as it stepped closer, a bombardment of its musky smell filling his nostrils. It reminded John of fall and bonfires, of the dog next door when it came back from the lake. Pleasant, yet just as equally perilous.

It bent down, sniffing at a close proximity to his face. All he could see was its big nose and brown furry snout. As it breathed out, strands of his dark hair flopped over his face, falling haphazardly over the lens of his glasses.

The smile was back on his face, gentle this time, and softly, he chuckled.

The wolf pulled away, its amber eyes instantly wavering between curiosity and caution.

“It’s alright,” John said quietly. “I won’t hurt you.”

However, before he could say anymore, the wolf backed up. A low whine seeped out from its muzzle. John’s brow furrowed in confusion. The wolf’s ruff lifted, spiking outwards and it began to shake.

Automatically, John reached out, but the wolf jerked away, baring its teeth in warning. Its tail curled up beneath its back-legs, its eyes growing wide.

The whine grew in pitch.

John stepped away, fear abruptly clutching at his heart. What was wrong with it? Had he hurt it? But, he hadn’t even touched the wolf!

The whine twisted, contorting more and more into a disturbingly human cry.

The wolf collapsed to the floor and curled up. The fur was ripped away, dissolving into nothing on the breeze.

For a moment silence filled the air.

Then the next thing John knew, he was staring fearfully at a furless back.


	3. Succour

Criss-crossing scars lined tanned skin. It was the only thing that John could really absorb over his bewilderment.

He could hear the man heaving, retching on the air. His hands clenched tightly on the grass before him.

The world was a dizzy blend of blur and murkiness. A shadow threatened to quietly descend over all four-corners of John’s vision. He stumbled backward, his gaze set upon the wolf that was no longer a wolf.

“What…?” he gasped. How…? What was going on?

His mind was tugged away from those thought processes as the man groaned and slumped to the floor.

Butt.

John squeaked and rushed over to the man’s side. He didn’t want to focus on the fact that this guy was naked, nope. He was in pain. He needed help, and definitely needed clothes.

“H-hang on, I’ll rush back and –“ No, in that time the guy would probably end up with a cold, or worse. John looked down at his sweater. Without a word, he took it off and draped it over the man. “There, that should do, for now anyways. Just… stay here, I’ll come back with a blanket or something soon.”

“Sure… I’ll break into… an Irish jig while you’re gone,” the man croaked.

John scowled but didn’t retort. Keeping this guy alive was the most important thing right now.

He turned away and broke into a run.

* * *

 

Luckily, his dad had still been asleep. It’d taken him no time at all to gather up a bundle of blankets and head back out.

The journey back had been a hard one. He’d started to panic, thinking that he’d taken a wrong turn as the trees and bushes enclosed the spaces around him. However, after a few more minutes, he was soon back in the clearing, his relief dissolving as he turned his gaze back upon the wolf-man.

In the time, that he’d been gone, the man had attempted to wrap John’s sweater around himself. It barely covered him and John was quick to focus his attention purely upon the man’s unkempt hair as he dropped most of the blankets, and then threw one about his shoulders.

He soon did the same with the rest, and the man proceeded to stiffly straighten up into a sitting position. He shakily wrapped the blankets around his middle and gripped the rest close to keep them covering the rest of his body.

Silence descended upon them, with the man turned away, his gaze facing the earth, and John standing uncomfortably a little further away.

“How…?” he began, trying to order his thoughts.

“Don’t ask,” the man growled.

John fell silent for a while.

“How about you come back with me to my house?” he said instead.

The man snorted. “Sure, I bet your parents will be overjoyed to have a strange naked man paying them an unexpected visit.”

“Hey! I’m just trying to help!” John scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Why was he being so ungrateful? He’d brought him stuff to keep him warm, and wasn’t questioning how he’d shifted from being a wolf to being a man… (No, don’t think about that. His brain was already hurting as it is.)

“Well, you do need a place to stay,” John said. “I can’t just leave you here alone in the woods. It’s freezing out here.”

The man fell silent, and John took that as a chance to continue. “Besides, my dad’s still asleep. I don’t think he’d wake up if we’re careful about it. And also, in that time, I can get you some clothes and stuff.”

“And if your dad wakes up…?”

“Then, uh, I can say that you’re a friend or something.”

He grunted. “That sure as hell would work.”

“Come on; let’s take you back to my place. It’s getting even colder out here, and I’d prefer if we didn’t freeze to death.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, pushing himself up into something akin to a crouch.

“Do you need some help…?” John said.

“No, I’m fine. Perfectly capable of standing up by myself.” He managed to get to his feet, albeit wobbly. He kept tight hold of the blankets encased around him.

John was secretly thankful that they were of a large enough size to keep him sufficiently covered. He gestured silently for the man to follow him, and began to lead him back the way that he’d arrived.

* * *

 

The trek back was nothing like before. John had to stop countless times to help the man keep up on his feet, despite the man’s protest that it was an effortless feat for him to keep walking.

As soon as the man had entered the house, John had quietly closed the door and herded him up the stairs.

Shortly after his bedroom door was closed, he exhaled dramatically in relief. Now there was just the problem of finding exact fitting clothes.

He remembered that – for his last birthday – his cousin had sent him a present containing clothes that, although were pretty darn cool, were way too big for him to wear. But, then again, he’d done the same the birthday before that too… He’d always been a little scatter-brained.

He walked thoughtfully over to his drawer, pulling it open and looking around inside for the oversized culprits. He soon found them stashed away at the bottom of his drawer, and pulled them out none too ceremoniously: two long-sleeved shirts and a pair of trousers.

The man eyed them with the slightest furrow to his brow.

“We’ve got a choice between those blankets or these clothes,” John said, picking them all up and raising them a little in the direction of the man. “Which ones? Clothes or blankets?”

The man silently moved forward and took them.

“Okay, I’ll, uh, wait outside.” John sidestepped over to the door, and then quietly opened it, letting himself out.

It wasn’t until after he had closed the door that all of his thoughts came crashing down around him all at once. He had a guy that’d been a wolf a short while ago in his house! Why had he even brought him home? What if Dad found out? He bit his bottom lip, glancing back towards his bedroom door.

This was so, so bad. And he had been so dumb.

He didn’t even know the guy! But, then again, he hadn’t wanted to leave him out there in the freezing cold. Especially not in the woods alone.

Still, this was incredibly weird. Very much so.

Was this the real life?

…. Or just fantasy?

John snorted a bit, and then quickly brought up his hands to cover his mouth. No, nope, don’t do that. No laughing. Not out in the hallway.

He cleared his throat softly and shuffled closer to his bedroom door. “Are you done in there…?” he asked in a half-whisper. “Is it safe to come in?”

The man opened the door.

John jumped back, his eyes growing wide momentarily. He tried to compose himself again quickly.

His way-too big clothes fit, which was good. Great, even. Hopefully, if it actually came down to it, Dad wouldn’t even notice that they were old birthday presents currently being worn by some stranger. Well, Dad had never really seemed to pay much attention to many other gifts his son was given, apart from those kinds of gifts that seemed gentlemanly, or involved cake in some way.

“Um, I’m glad that they fit you,” John said, walking past the man and back into his room.

The man grunted and scratched at his chin, closed the door, then turned away to stare out of the window.

John plopped onto his mattress and looked over at him. “Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name? I mean, I can’t keep calling you guy, or dude, or something.”

“Bro,” he said.

Bro? Was that his actual name? … He doubted it. But, the guy did seem like the secretive type. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bro! I’m John!”

“Mhm, you might wanna’ keep your voice down if you don’t wanna' wake your dad.”

“Oh, right.”

Silence descended for a while between them both, only disturbed once by Bro padding aimlessly about John’s room. Every so often, he’d pick up something, examine it, and then put it back down again without a word. However, as time continued to tick away, John’s curiosity began to build up with a flourish.

How had this man ended up changing from a wolf to a human being? What was he?

“How did you end up like that?” John said.

“I grew up,” Bro replied.

John shook his head. “No, you know what I mean. I saw you, as a wolf, and… now you’re not.”

Bro glanced back at him from where he stood in the center of the room. “… Things happened.”

John leaned forward on his bed, his mouth falling open into an ‘o’ shape. “What kind of things?”

“Things I’d rather not talk about,” Bro growled.

“But –”

Bro shot him a venomous glare. John gulped and shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. Maybe he could ask him something else? Maybe if he worked around his questioning he could find things out.

John decided to approach this carefully. “Your… accent, you’re not from around here, are you?”

“No.”

“Where are you from?”

“Texas.”

“Oh… that’s quite far away from here. Much hotter too.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you… move out here?”

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to lean against John’s least poster-covered wall.

“How’ve you found it so far?” John asked, tilting his head a little to the side.

“Cold, much colder than Texas.”

“I bet.” John nodded, then pulled a face. “It’s only going to get colder from here on out, though. To be honest, I don’t think it’s ever been this cold here in Maple Valley before.”

Bro shrugged. “As long as I’m somewhere warm enough, it won’t bother me.”

“But, that’s the thing: you weren’t. You were out in the freezing cold windiness of the forest. That won’t help keep you warm.”

Bro looked away. “Things happened.”

“So you keep saying.” This topic was getting too dangerously close in relationship to the last one. John quickly worked through his list of mentally prepared questions. “When did you move here?”

“A few months ago.”

Kicking his legs out, John shuffled through the rest of his thoughts. His curiosity still lingered strongly at the forefront of his mind. A sense of disbelief was trailing along beside it. It was difficult to balance them both out equally, even more so to not give in to asking questions he was sure he wouldn’t get the answer to. All of the moving pictures of the wolf in his mind, those eyes, that wariness, the smell… It was all still fresh. Still, John felt as if he wasn’t quite sure whether what he had witnessed was at all real.

Was it all some kind of trick? An illusion that he fell for in an incredibly dumb fashion? But, there’d been no cameras, as far as he could remember. Nothing that he wouldn’t have been able to spot, and he was pretty damn good at what he did. Pranks came as second-nature to him, so he would’ve easily been able to pick up on any form of it. It wouldn’t have gotten past him, surely!

There was also the fact that this guy was acting completely the opposite for a prankster. If he truly was one, he would’ve given up the trick almost as instantly as it’d come to an end.

No, this was the real-deal. He was almost completely sure of it.

And it scared him.

That such a thing could be real… It wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

He should never have gotten himself involved in this whole mess.

“I can walk back to your house with you, if you like?” John asked, watching as Bro sat down in his chair beside the computer.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure, whatever.”

There was an unspoken sense of a sentence left floating about in the open air: ‘It’s not like you’ll ever see me again.’

John stood up, walking back over to his bedroom door. “We might as well leave now, I guess. Don’t want to wake my dad up at this time.” He glanced back at Bro. “Are you sure you’re warm enough?”

He looked at him as if he was stupid, then casually straightened in his seat and got up. “Consider me sufficiently warmed up. A thin shirt acting as my protection against the chilling winds is by far enough to get me places.”

Taking that as a yes, John rolled his eyes and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. Bro shadowed him with his hands in his pockets, looking so incredibly indifferent that it seemed to John that he didn’t really give a crap about anything.

John locked the front door after him, glad that Dad had granted him his very own key to the house on his twelfth birthday. Although, at the thought of his dad John’s stomach clenched with the same horrible guilt.

He’d promised his dad that he’d tell him if he was to go out again. And he’d broken that promise.

But, it wasn’t as if he would know about it. He’d be back home way before Dad even got up. He was sure of it. It was just… kind of bad. Really bad, actually. It made him feel terrible, and stupid, and… He bit his lip. Well, that list could go on for ages.

Not five minutes into the walk, Bro took the lead, steering John down two separate paths before stopping at one particular house.

Really, it was just as plain as the others. Besides the difference in roof colouration, which was orange. That, made it stand out heavily amongst the rest of the buildings. John was surprised that he’d never noticed it before during his travels. Not that he actually travelled particularly far, but this house was obvious. Very much so.

“See ya,” Bro said, striding over to the door.

John blinked and stared. ‘See ya?’ That was it? That was all he could say after everything? He scowled at him and folded his arms. “A thank you would be nice, after everything I’ve done.”

Bro glanced back at him, his amber eyes cool, indifferent. His hands were already on the edge of his half-open front door. He gave him the most subtlest of nods and headed into the depths of his home.

John was left standing there with an incredulous expression.


	4. The Delivery

He’d tried his best not to stomp back inside the house, really he did. But, it hadn’t really worked out. Irritation rushed through him like a storm, urging him to carry on his clumsy attempt at raging.

He could’ve sworn that he heard something rustle up in Dad’s room, although he wasn’t really paying that much attention. He was too caught up in his anger, mostly at himself, a quarter of it was directed at Bro.

Why had he even bothered? That nod. What was that? Had that been Bro’s way of saying ‘thanks’? Yeah, that really worked. Especially after everything he’d done for him. Help to keep him warm? Give him some of his clothes to wear (albeit clothes that he couldn’t really wear himself)? Aw, yeah, thanks that’s awesome.

Nope, it didn’t work like that. Instead, he’d just gotten the slightest hints at gratitude from a wolf-man that he’d probably never see again anyway!

So stupid.

He was really dumb.

He exhaled loudly through his nose, crossing his arms intensely over his chest, and made his way up the stairs.

He might as well get changed into some other stuff. He didn’t really want Dad finding him in clothes that he could scrutinize and find outdoorsy stuff from. Not that he probably had much in outdoorsy stuff like twigs or something on him anyway, but he wasn’t going to take that chance.

His anger ended up abruptly mixed within a cocktail of fresh new remorse. Why had he broken his own promise to Dad? Why had he been so stupid as to go out there and search for the wolf in the first place?

He mumbled quietly to himself. This had all turned out so well! He was happy! He felt great! Really… great.

He closed his bedroom door and pulled out some new clothes from his drawers, his thoughts still buzzing loudly away in his head.

Pulling his shirt off, he quickly changed into a clean one, additionally hopping around for a while as he pulled on a new pair of trousers. Throughout it all, he grumbled to himself, flinging his outdoorsy stained clothes onto the bed as soon as he’d done changing.

Who was he fucking kidding?

He was a moron.

He should never have gone out into the forest, and he should never have found him.

He should never have gone back and helped him.

John clenched his fists and glared at the mattress.

He’d never talk to him again.

He’d make sure of it.

* * *

 

Dad never found out, or at least, he’d never mentioned anything involving any early morning, sneaky excursions, which was good. In all honesty, the day passed by in a blur. John’s mind too preoccupied with the wolf-man and the forestine memories that he’d rather not have. Eventually, he’d just ended up excusing himself to his dad’s study.

John pushed the bench closer to the piano, sitting down on it and closing his eyes almost instantly. He breathed in, then out, trying to instill a sense of peace within him. Or at least something akin to that.

It didn’t really work.

Instead, John simply opened his eyes, straightened up and focused on the keys. His fingers hovered over them for a moment, and then he started to play.

It took only a short while before the music began to course through him. His mind went into a kind of trance, separated from everything apart from his own personal concert. All of his confusion, his frustration and shouting cloud of thoughts were shoved far away into the far corners of his mind.

He continued to play until all of these past couple of days no longer mattered. Until he was finally free of the negative emotions behind them, and then, he stopped.

“That was… different.”

He turned to face the entranceway. Dad stood, leaning against the doorframe, his pipe held casually out within one hand.

“Yeah, I was… working through a bunch of things, heh.”

“So I could tell,” he said, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “You’ve improved drastically over these last few years.”

“Practice makes perfect! Well near perfect, I guess.” John chuckled.

“Indeed it does.” Dad nodded and then raised the pipe and puffed out a cloud of smoke. “You have a delivery, son. I’ve left it downstairs for your benefit.”

A delivery…? Besides John’s relatives, who always seemed to give him hints before they sent a parcel his way anyway, there were not that many people that John could think of who’d even bother sending him gifts or anything similar. He scrutinized Dad suspiciously. Was this some kind of prank to one-up him?

Dad’s nonchalant expression gave away nothing.

Reluctantly, John got up from his seat and walked slowly past his dad, his mind whirling with curiosity and a blend of caution.

He made his way quickly down the stairs, his eyes alighting upon the package after the third step down. It looked innocent enough. John’s brow furrowed a little. That didn’t count for much though.

That cuddly toy had seemed innocent enough, and then it’d blown up in his face in a billow of flour.

He hopped down the last few steps and came to a stop before the package. It was a small cardboard-y thing, not the kind of package that he was used to. He tiptoed forward, crouched slightly, and poked it.

Nothing happened.

Sighing in relief, he bent forward to open it up…

Then all hell broke loose.

There was a loud screeching noise and some horrifying harle-clown thing jumped out of the box and slapped John across the face. He fell backward on his butt with a yell, breathing fast. As soon as he had calmed down enough to study the opened box, he glared, then glowered. He’d been tricked.

He folded his arms, his expression melting into something more closely resembling a pout.

“Daaaad, why?” he yelled up the stairs, his voice sounding so incredibly like a chipmunk on helium that he wished that he hadn’t said anything in the first place.

Dad was walking calmly down the stairs by this point, flashing John the briefest of mischievous smiles at his sullen look. “You really do have a parcel, son. I just thought I should spice things up a bit before you got it.” He brought his hand out from behind his back and dropped a parcel close to John’s feet.

John frowned up at him for a moment longer before reaching forward to pull the parcel within opening distance. “I’ll get you back for that,” he promised him. “I’ll get you back good.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Dad chuckled, then he turned away and walked off into the living room.

John huffed and stared down at the mysterious package. In his hold the brown paper was thin and flimsy, the wrapping as a whole done quickly and tied with string. He didn’t know whether to call it old-fashioned, or rushed. Maybe it was a bit of both?

He turned it over in his hands, his eyes flickering over the material. He was half-expecting this parcel to contain something that would burst out at him in a clashing squeal too. But, Dad had reached his quota for his Prankster’s Gambit for today, or so John told himself. Secretly, he hoped that was actually the case.

Enough dithering. He tore open the parcel.

Inside he found his oversized clothes nestled, neat and tidy amongst the paper.

Gripping hold of the thin material, he tugged it the rest of the way off. A note fluttered serenely to the floor. John picked it up and held it closer to his face:

YOU’LL GROW INTO THESE EVENTUALLY, KID.  
IF YOU EVER WANT TO HIT ME UP AT SOME POINT MY CHUMHANDLE’S timaeusTestified.  
  
-BRO

He stared at the computer-written words for some time, his mind working overtime. Was this… his way of apology? The idea worked its way slowly through his mind. Should he contact him? He didn’t know. Everything that had happened in these last couple of days felt strange, unreal, and dream-like.

And this just seemed to emphasize that.

He’d thought that simply keeping his mind preoccupied with other things would help, but they didn’t. Seeing this note just made all of those events, his feelings about them, everything, seem all the more real. All the more _confusing._ But… maybe it would help to clear it up a bit if he talked with him…? He shook his head, crumpling up the note and shoving it into his pocket as he stood.

This was wrong. He’d already told himself that he’d never talk to him again. He shouldn’t even be entertaining these kinds of thoughts.

A clear picture of the wolf, its amber eyes burrowing into his own, flashed to the forefront of his mind.

He couldn’t help it.

None of this made sense, and he needed to find someone to clarify it. Even if they were evasive about the entire subject.

He’d try it; try to get the story out of him.

His determination, his curiosity came crashing back down around him.


	5. The Meeting

He faltered in his pacing, his mouth set in a downwards line. Should he talk to him? He was undecided. He barely knew him, and yet… the fact that Bro had changed before his eyes still stuck with him. He wanted answers.

John sat down at his computer, staring at the screen. His doubt still whispered at him, drawing him into the white zone; one in which he ended up remaining seated and just staring all the more. He worked through all of his thoughts and doubts in an attempt to come to a decision.

Finally, with a sigh, he clicked open Pesterchum and searched for Bro’s handle.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

EB: hey bro!

EB: you said something about ‘hitting you up’ on pesterchum, so i thought i should try it.

TT: Hey.

TT: I’ve noticed, seeing that you’re typing away to me now.

TT: Unless I’m currently engaged in conversation with someone else, which could very well be the case.

EB: nope, it’s definitely me!

Bro seemed… different. More talkative. Or was it just him…?

TT: So, you’re after answers.

EB: wait, what?

EB: um… i mean… yeah!

EB: kind of…

TT: Do you want them, or not?

EB: yeah, i do. of course i do!

EB: it’s just…

EB: i thought you didn’t want to talk about what happened?

TT: I don’t, but after you witnessed the event in all its beautiful holy glory, I doubt I’d be able to find any other option except for me to explain it.

TT: I won’t be revealing everything though.

TT: Trade secret.

EB: trade secret? :/

TT: Yeah.

TT: I’ll meet you near mine for the near-to-complete story.

EB: when?

TT: Tomorrow at two.

EB: okay, i’ll be there at that time, then!

EB: see ya then. 

TT: Yeah, til then.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

Should he go talk to him? He was practically still a stranger after all and, even though John had kinda saved his life, it would still be odd. But… he’d be talking to him out in public-ish, anyway, right? It wasn’t like he’d turn around and hurt him while they talked?

… Why was he thinking through all of this now when all of their conversation earlier, plus him taking Bro back to his place hadn’t drawn it out? But, then again, it had been different. Panic and worry did kind of leave a person to think of less sensible things, or rather, things relating to helping a person out when they were in need of it.

John twirled away from his computer, kicking his legs out and staring at his movie posters across the room.

He’d have to tell Dad that he was going out. Just tell him that he was going for a walk, or something. That wasn’t a complete lie, after all. He just wished that, sometimes, things didn’t always have to be so complicated. He wished that he didn’t have to go through this whole routine just to go outside. Sure, Dad was somewhat lenient when it came to John being outside now but, it had been kind of bad when he was younger. Anxiety over whether he’d get hurt, or something, was his guess.

It was different now though. Although, he was certain that Dad was the same as he ever was about him going out alone, by himself. He could understand it, to some extent. But, sometimes, sometimes he wished that Dad didn’t worry about him so much.

He could look out for himself.

Heck, he’d faced off against a wolf that had turned out to be some kind of – of werewolf. Plus, he’d rarely ever wandered back into the house with a graze, or some kind of scratch on him.

Dad may not show it as much now, but it was still fairly obvious what he thought.

He thought that John still couldn’t fend for himself. That he was still too young. Yet, he wasn’t.

He’d become so preoccupied with his thoughts that the entire world around him had become a blur. Shaking his head, he stood up, walking over to stand by the window.

There had been so much that’d went on all at once. A hurricane of events that’d occurred one after another. It was as if he was a part of an action movie or something; the sequence of feats twisting around him and taking him along in their flow. He rubbed at his arm and glanced a little to the left of his window frame.

He… might as well get everything ready for tomorrow. But, what could he possibly bring? Maybe he should just take his notebook along? Although he didn’t even know if he’d actually write in it. Probably not. Should he just forget about taking along a bunch of things that he didn’t even need? That seemed like the best option.

He’d just take along an extra sweater to fight off the biting cold.

Taking it out from his drawer, he draped it across the end of his bed. There was so many questions that he wanted answers to. But, was he really going to get them all? He doubted it. What with it being a ‘trade secret’ or whatever the heck Bro had said.

He rubbed a hand across his face and flopped down on the mattress with a sigh. Everything seemed so odd now. It was as if he was suddenly living in a fairytale, which was a dumb way of wording it, but there was nothing more that he could think of that would describe how he felt right now.

What should he even do for the rest of the day?

A brilliant idea unfolded in his mind. His lips turned upwards in a mischievous smile. He knew how to pass the time.

Dad was still in need of a good vengeance prank.

* * *

 

John had slept in. It miiight have been something to do with the fact that he’d been engaged in a confrontation with a wolf and everything else that had followed that incident, or maybe it was just that he’d felt incredibly tired the day before. Whatever the case, he was now in a rush to get ready.

Sure, it was still early enough that he had plenty of time to do the whole daily morning routine, but he wanted to be sure that he was ready. Ready for a day where everything would be answered, or as answered as he could get. He hoped, at least, that enough of what he wanted to know would be cleared up so that his head wouldn’t feel as hazy and daydreamy as it felt right now.

He shoved on his pale blue sweater and dashed to the bathroom, where he quickly brushed his teeth, combed through his hair once (using his fingers as a brush) and finally bounced his way down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

“I’ll be heading out soon,” he said, as he dashed past his dad.

Dad watched him in bemusement. His son wasn’t usually this energetic in the morning. It was as if he’d been replaced by a hyperactive pixie. “Alright, be careful,” he called after John’s retreating back.

“I will.”

John slowed down a little, taking fairly even strides into the kitchen and over to the cupboard. He wasn’t going to let Dad try and make him breakfast again. Cupcakes for breakfast? What’s with that?

He took out a bowl, a spoon and some cereal, quickly pouring it out before moving on to the fridge. He found the milk without hassle, much to his surprise, and applied it to his breakfast. Dad would often leave a lovely ‘gift’ within the top portion of the fridge, commonly that included something that would pop out at him and give him a fright, or it might’ve been balanced on top of the fridge to plummet upon John in an explosion of noise and shocked, embarrassing squeaks.

However, that didn’t happen, not today. He couldn’t use the excuse that it was because he’d woken up early, because he hadn’t. Unless… Dad was planning something big. Something much bigger than just the typical ‘chills prank’.

A vengeance against his own revenge.

He glanced over at the doorway, but didn’t catch sight of the tell-tale silhouette of his dad. What was he up to…?

No, he’d worry about that later. Right now he wanted to just eat his breakfast, finish getting ready, and go.

He checked the clock. He had an hour left.

Plenty of time to eat and whatnot.

Grabbing his bowl, he hurried into the living room and plopped himself down on the couch. As he ate he stared over at the fireplace, picturing the wolf, the transparent smokes of breath expelling from its jaws as it watched him. Was that really Bro? Part of him was trying to fend off the illogical. That what he had witnessed couldn’t possibly be true. But, it had happened. He’d really and truly seen it with his own two eyes - the change.

Dark grey and dusky brown fur dissolving into nothing on the breeze. The audible crack of his bones… He shook his head. No, no, he didn’t want to think about that.

He stood up, going back into the kitchen and placed his bowl and spoon in the sink.

He’d head out. Just go for a walk for a while, after that he’d meet up with Bro.

“I’ll be heading out now,” he called.

“Don’t stay out until dark, John,” Dad called back.

“I won’t!”

He headed over to the door, opening it and breathed in the freshness of the outside air. True, it was nice to stay inside and just play games, or watch TV or something, but it was nicer still to be able to just simply… walk. Get outside and enjoy the outdoors instead of remaining cooped up inside all the time. He closed the door after himself.

He rambled along, happy just to listen to the early traffic, birds and quiet chatter. This was why he enjoyed this time of day. He should get out more during this time, instead of wasting the day away inside until the evening. He wasn’t going anywhere in particular, just walking along without any specific direction. Of course, he wouldn’t stray too far from the house.

Dad wasn’t really too fond of him going too far out.

He was tempted to have a look within the woods again, but with everything that had happened lately, that probably wasn’t the best idea.

He spent a good fifteen or twenty minutes just walking around, thinking, before he decided he might as well head back and go to Bro’s house.

He’d almost thought that he’d forgotten the way, being that he’d walked alongside Bro back to his home only once. Although it turned out that his memory aided him just enough to take him where he needed to go.

He stood before Bro’s house awkwardly.

An orange roof; this was definitely it.

Tugging the collar of his sweater further up, John walked over to the door. Before he could even so much as knock, however, the door opened, causing him to jump back. Bro stood there in what must’ve been at least three layers of clothes, a jacket topping them all, overlaying the reds, blues and oranges of the clothes beneath. And hey, when did he get those triangular shades on?

“Hey Bro!” John said, offering him a cheery wave.

He studied him for a moment, nodded once, and then closed the door behind him. “We’ll head over there. Then we’ll talk.”

“Or we could talk on the way down?”

“Nope, too many ears to hear us through their multitude of walls.”

“Okay, then.” Bro was weird.

The pair of them walked down the path together. The wind the only chatterer between the two of them. Once they got to a bench, Bro sat down and gestured for John to do likewise.

“So, answers. You want them, and I’m not particularly exuberant about granting them. We could just enjoy this scorching hot day instead.”

“No, all of these last few days have kind of been boxed up in my brain. I can’t get rid of all these questions. You’ll just have to answer them.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and looked away.

“I am what you think I am.”

“What? A werewolf?”

He gave him the ‘ _keep it down’_ look, mixed in with his poker-face it was almost impossible to read it correctly, but John got it. Or at least, he thought he did. Heck, he could’ve been giving him the _‘I’m a walrus’_ look or something instead.

“Yeah, that. There’re some things that occurred that got me into this whole business of having sharp teeth and claws.”

“What kind of things?”

“Unexpected and unwanted things. I won’t give the specifics, not now.”

John crossed his arms and frowned up at him. “You told me you’d help to answer my questions.”

“Not all of them, remember? Trade secret.”

John rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Just tell me what you can, so that I’m not left too far out in the dark.”

“I… struggle to keep myself human. A lot of the time I shift randomly. I just have enough of a warning to get out of the house, leave everything behind and find a spot to do my daily happy routine of changing into an animal.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it’s the best. Can’t beat howling at the night sky and licking my balls.”

“Ew.” John stuck his tongue out.

Bro shrugged. “One of the many things granted to me in my new beautiful lupine life.”

“How did it happen?”

“I was bit, same as any werewolf.”

“Oh.”

John sucked on his bottom lip in thought, turning his head slightly away from Bro. “… How come you decided to move out here?” he finally asked. “It’s way colder than Texas.”

Bro scratched at his cheek, looking away at the houses across the street. “That’s one of the reasons why I came here. The cold helps me, usually, to stay human. That and I just… I wanted a change.”

John noticed the slight catch in his voice, his brow furrowing a little bit. However, he said nothing. Just turning to watch as a woman went by, talking on the phone to someone. “It is nice here. Loads of open air and stuff. Though the weather can be annoying. It was raining all last week.”

Bro grunted. “I noticed. Had to keep myself covered up more than usual to fend off that fucking doggy smell.”

John’s lips twitched upwards. “You smell doggy?”

“Sometimes, other times I just smell like a lobster.”

John laughed. “Maybe I should throw you back into the sea where you belong, Sebastian.”

“He ain’t a lobster.”

“What?” John shot him a confused look.

“Sebastian from The Little Mermaid?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s a crab.”

John snorted, then grinned. “Look at you being a Mr.Know-It-All.”

“Yeah? Well at least I know my crustaceans.”

John kicked his legs up into the air, a smile set on his lips. It faltered, however, as his mind went over the complications of Bro’s past words. “You said that you were bitten.”

“Mm? Yeah.”

“Who by?”

Bro shifted in his seat. John could tell that he wasn’t looking at him, his head tilted a little to the side to keep from showing his eyes. _Although,_ John mused, _he doesn’t need to hide them around me. I’ve already seen them._

“A wolf.”

“Yeah, I know that but-“

He stood up. “It was just another werewolf.”

“Okay, okay, geez. I was just asking…” Avert the topic. Avert the topic. “You know, as a wolf you’re huge.”

He glanced at John.

“I mean, you’re taller than me. Are all werewolves like that?”

Bro shrugged. “Probably, I don’t really pay attention to stuff like that.”

There was something odd about that answer. The way he said it… It was as if he was keeping something back on purpose. Although, John didn’t question it aloud, it still nudged at that part of him that’d noticed the slight change in Bro’s voice.

“Won’t people notice?”

Slowly, he sat back down. “As a wolf I’m quicker than the run-of-the-mill variety.”

John squinted a little at him through the lens of his glasses. There it was again; the hint. There was just something different to his tone. It seriously was as if he was keeping things hidden from him. Yeah, he’d said that it was a trade secret. That he couldn’t tell him everything but, it was still annoying. He could damn well _hear_ that he was keeping something back.

“It didn’t seem that way to me when I met you for the first time,” he said.

“I was probably not in the mood to all-out run. I just decided to jog away from you in a lupine manner.”

“Mm, suuure you were.” The sarcasm dripped off of his words like ice-cream from a cone on a hot day.

“What about the shift? You said that you shift a lot of the time, but could you expand on that? Wouldn’t it mean that you’re likely to shift almost twenty-four-seven?”

“No, it wouldn’t. I’ve found that the evening and the morning’s are usually the worst, typically during summer and autumn. I usually have enough of a warning before the change to get to the woods before it actually happens. The heat also has something to do with it, I think. Messes with my body temperature, or something and makes it easier for me to shift.”

That would explain why he’d moved out here then. “Are you able to control it at all?”

“No, not exactly. I’m still having trouble with it on occasion. Mostly because I’m still kind of a newbie to the whole thing.”

“A newbie? But you said you moved here a few months ago.”

“Werewolves are considered newbies for longer than just a few months.”

“That’s… kind of odd.”

Bro shrugged. “If you think it is, then it is. I don’t really overthink it, there’s no point.”

“What about the whole wolf thing?”

“Wolf thing?”

“Yeah, you know, like does your mind work differently as a wolf, or not?”

“It does, most of the time. I act mostly on instincts. Everything during my time as a wolf is mostly a blur of faded out memories, darkened images, smells and noise. However, during the first time that I met you, I was freed from my constraints. I remember seeing you through the wolf’s eyes and not through my own.” Bro trailed away, looking off to the side, away from John.

Images of the shock that had flickered through Bro-wolf’s eyes rushed back to John, in that moment. He had witnessed a human emotion, something that a normal wolf was devoid of. “You ran away, after that.”

“I felt… like myself again, just for a little while, and I was confused. I didn’t really know what was going on, only that this wasn’t right, that this shouldn’t have happened.”

“You could’ve killed me, you know,” John said quietly. “I didn’t need to look into your eyes to realize that that was your intention.”

“I didn’t know. I was hungry, I was hunting. You were food to me and that was all in that moment.”

“So you’d risk killing someone over stalking the forest hungry for, say, a deer or something?”

“As a wolf I don’t think too deeply about things like whether you’re human or not, kid. I have no rational thoughts during my lupine campaign. Instincts are far stronger than anything else when I’m like that.”

“But, when you looked into my eyes, for a little while your instincts weren’t as strong, and it threw you off.”

Bro reached up to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

“During our second encounter, you acted kind of different, unwolflike.”

“Mm? Yeah, I remember that. I still felt like… me, not like the wolf I’m supposed to be.” He shrugged. “I guess it was because I recognized you from before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

John stood up, looking toward Bro with a small smile. “I think I’ve learned a lot from this, even if you are keeping a few things back from me due to this ‘trade secret’. Thanks.”

Bro shrugged and leaned back against the bench. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t bother me about this kind of stuff again.”

John shuffled his feet a little, suddenly having a peculiar notion. “Do you mind if… I keep in contact with you?”

If Bro was surprised by this, he didn’t show it. Instead he just said, “You’ve got my chumhandle already right? I doubt that you’d leave me alone anyway after all that’s went on.”

“Yeah, thanks again Bro. See you around!” John waved and began to walk back, with a gruff goodbye from Bro following along behind him.


	6. Clandestine

Things weren’t as confusing as before.

At least, he had more of a clear conscience now. Even if it was still partly clouded over because of his earlier behaviour toward Dad (he still felt awful and kind of guilty over the fact that he’d gone behind his back and went off to the woods without his permission). Still, (he kept telling himself this) if he hadn’t gone out in the quiet hours of the morning, he’d never have met Bro again, and never would have ended up taking part in something completely surreal and paranormal.

Everything made more sense now. Well, as much sense as you could get out of real-life werewolves.

John tugged at the sleeves of his sweater as he walked, his thoughts running a million miles per second over in his mind. He still had a few unanswered questions, and a few mysteries to unravel. But, hopefully, they’d be solved in time. Right now, he was just looking forward to going home to a hot drink and, possibly, the awaiting counter-prank of Dad’s.

From this distance, he could clearly see the first line of trees that sprouted along the edge of the forest. It stretched out for a long, long way. While meandering through it, he’d thought it was big, but not that big.

 _It’s immense enough,_ John thought, _to carry and hide obscure secrets within its depths._

Something dark flashed by the corner of his vision.

He stopped, turning his head in the direction of the movement.

He fell back, startled.

A large black wolf watched him silently from the border of the woods.

Where he stood, it looked intimidating, strange. Even from here he could feel it studying him.

A shiver involuntarily trickled down his spine and he wrapped his arms around himself.

The wolf turned away, disappearing back into the darkness of the forest. And John released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 


	7. Shadows

Eerie lights whispered from the darkness. Eliciting a sense of exhilaration and disorientation within John.

Glowing orbs burst out from the nothingness, regarding John coldly. He felt the chill of their stares, yet also felt the warmth of the growing light. It struck him, encircling the small space around him until he was encased within a sphere of illumination.

The orbs floated closer, soon revealing muzzles, ears and teeth. They were silent spirits; judging that which wasn’t the same as them.

Human eyes within a wolf’s skull.

John felt a rising fear grip and claw at his insides as a large black wolf leaped into the circle of light, baring its gleaming fangs at him. It circled, John following its movements with his eyes and moving carefully in the opposite direction. Neither one exited the light.

The audience of wolves kept their distance.

Soundless beings that simply watched the unfolding showdown.

John saw nothing but ice in the black wolf’s eyes. It snapped, drawing ever closer to him, and then – pounced.

This world of dark and light was immediately ripped out from under him.

The shadowed wolf’s fur combining with the hues around it. There was a howl of noise. Then nothing.

John woke up with a start.

* * *

 

He gasped for air, sitting up so quickly and violently in his bed that his back ached with the sudden motion. He brought up his hands to his face, his mind racing.

What kind of dream was that?

Already it was slipping away from his grasp. All of the imagery merely dull colours on a faded canvas.

A splintering crash resounded from downstairs.

* * *

 

John raced down the stairs, hurrying to push his glasses in place on the bridge of his nose. His heart was pounding in his chest, each breath leaving him more breathless than the last.

He skidded into the kitchen.

A gray wolf looked up from the broken remnants of the window that now lay scattered across the floor.

A fleeting thought flashed by in John’s head: how had it got in? And then it was gone, replaced instead by quiet stabs of confusion and fear.

The wolf regarded him through hazel eyes, curiosity gleaming at their core.

Human.

Before John could take so much as a single step forwards, the wolf leaped upon the worktop, its claws gently clicking against the hard surface, and slipped back through the broken window, leaving scatters of crimson droplets on the counter in its wake.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs and soon John felt the reassuring touch of Dad’s hand upon his shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked him quietly.

“It was a – a raccoon,” John said.

Dad fell silent and released his hold from John's shoulder. “Alright. I’ll clean this mess up; you should go back to bed and try to get some more sleep.”

John nodded mutely and went back to his room.


	8. The Aftermath

It felt as if he was waking from a nightmare.

Yes, the kitchen was now spotless. Clean from the mess and the blood but, it was still fresh in John’s mind; the wolf, that look, those eyes. His gaze falling on the – now – boarded up window, that it must have crashed through.

There was something more to this whole thing.

It wasn’t just a case of a single werewolf living out here in Maple Valley. There were more of them.

Well, of course there was more! You couldn’t have a wolf without its pack, right? Well, not usually.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his left arm and glancing in no particular direction.

Everything was now a complete mess again in his head; a gigantic hurricane, whirlwindy thing that tossed all of his ideas and questions around and around, not giving him the chance to actually pluck one particular thought out and zoom in on it.

… He had a headache coming on.

Groaning quietly, he flopped down onto the sofa. He could at least breathe a little easier within the comfort of the living room. Right now, he felt too cramped in his room.

He needed to relax.

He couldn’t focus right now at all.

A familiar bleep made him sit upright and turn to look up the stairs.

Someone was pestering him.

Pff, he really didn’t have time for this.

He was not in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment.

It bleeped again.

Stomping to his feet, he mumbled his way up the stairs and into his room.

He slumped into his seat and dragged it closer to the computer.

He blinked and stared closely at the blinking thingy that warned when he was being pestered.

This red text wasn’t from someone he knew.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

TG: hey

TG: so

TG: bro told me about you

TG: kind of

TG: he didnt say much

TG: just that youre a shortstack or something

TG: no that isnt the point that im trying to get at

TG: the point im trying to get at is

TG: hey im dave

TG: bros brother

TG: which actually sounds kind of weird like

TG: brothers brother

TG: whats up with that?

TG: just some dude comes waltzing in wearing a tuxedo

TG: gets up onto the stage leans close to the microphone

TG: clears his throat and then introduces himself

TG: ‘im bros brother. salutations.’

TG: then the whole audience goes quiet

EB: look, i’m not in the best of moods right now.

EB: some things happened and it’s pretty shitty.

TG: whoa whoa hey

TG: my many apologies to you the great moody storm for the interruption

TG: i didnt mean to interpose on your grand contemplative cloud of temperament

TG: wow i sounded like rose then

EB: can you message me back at a time that isn’t bad?

TG: uh sure

TG: ill just chill out waiting for the time that my stridey-senses warn me of your happy factor rising

TG: itll alert me swiftly to your change in mood

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

As soon as he’d clicked out of the conversation, he felt bad. Worse than before. He’d just been snappy to someone he didn’t even know.

John heaved a sigh and rested his head in his hands, feeling his hair flop over his face. Had TG or whatever his Pesterchum name was just said that he was the brother of Bro? He groaned and slumped against his desk. Now he felt even worse.

The headache was coming on stronger than ever before; a pounding sensation in his head that, he was sure, was just trying to make him feel even grumpier than he felt already. Maybe he should just pester him now and apologize? But, he didn’t feel like he’d be able to manage it in the state he was in right now.

His concentration was flying out of the window, or in fact, it had already flown out long ago.

He just couldn’t focus.

No, for now he should just sit back and watch TV or something. That should help, at least, a little bit. That and he should get something to stop this headache.

He’d try to make sense of everything and apologize to Dave later.


	9. The Wolves

His mind was less of a mess.

Chilling had certainly helped to calm down the roaring nature of his thoughts. That and ease his headache, even though John was sure that that was more to do with the pain killers than anything else.

He leaned his head back against the backrest of the couch, closing his eyes and sighing.

Dad had told him that someone would be coming to look at what remained of the window and fit in a new one, so at least he wouldn’t have to witness the boarded remnants of **that** event soon.

Those hazel eyes imprinted themselves in his mind’s eye.

There was something more to all of this. Something that Bro wasn’t telling him.

Maybe he should pester him? Ask him what was really going on.

But, he probably wouldn’t answer.

Shit, it was frustrating… He wanted to know.

Bro wouldn’t tell him.

Maybe there was some way around that?

He’d definitely have to find out what he needed by himself.

What about Dave? Maybe he knew something about it? He seemed weird, but then again, Bro was weird too. The weird quality passed on down the family, he guessed.

Well, he felt a little better now. Not as moody as earlier or as confused. That should help him with his sneaky questions. Maybe it would help them in actually leading to better, more enhanced versions of the answers he seeked. But, what if Dave didn’t know anything about it?

He’d find out once he spoke to him.

What was his chumhandle again?

He leaned forwards in his chair.

Oh yeah, turntechGodhead.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

EB: hey dave!

TG: sup

TG: so

TG: your mood storm has dissipated then?

EB: yup. it’s all cleared up now.

EB: sorry about before.

TG: pff, no apologies are needed

TG: that dark cloud did shit all to me

TG: it wasnt very effective

TG: less than effective actually

EB: uh, you mentioned earlier that bro was talking about me. what did he say?

TG: nothing much

TG: he just mentioned you in passing

TG: like ‘hey, theres this shortass kid that lives not too far from here.’ ‘i talked to him for a while’

TG: i was just kind of wondering

TG: whod want to talk to bro?

TG: hes just

TG: an asshole

TG: a cool ironic asshole

TG: but an asshole nonetheless

TG: so i was curious and ended up messaging you

EB: did he say anything else?

TG: nah

TG: why should he have

EB: no, not really.

TG: okay well

EB: did he tell you my name?

TG: john right

EB: yup.

TG: getting mostly any kind of informative response from my bro beyond a name and slight description is like looking for a monkey up a wannabe gangster’s ass

EB: what if you happened to have god’s power though? and you could do pretty much anything with that power.

TG: then it would be slightly less difficult

TG: but still a pain enough to leave you a little frustrated

EB: um, if you don’t mind me asking…

TG: yeah?

EB: bro told me about how you moved from texas to here. i was wondering, is it different from how you imagined it to be?

TG: quite a lot actually yeah

TG: the fact that were now living in the ice age compared to in the tropical bahamas makes a huge difference

TG: i feel like ive shed my human skin and instead become something more closely related to a penguin

EB: was there any particular reason why you moved?

TG: hmm bro never really said why

TG: i think he just wanted a change from our blazing land of rooftops and strife

John had a sudden spot of intuition that Dave actually had no idea what Bro was. The more that he continued on with this conversation, the more apparent it became.

EB: i’ve gotta go, but let’s talk again sometime.

EB: it’s been fun!

TG: sure

TG: youve got my chumhandle so you can always zip a message in a glass bottle over to me beyond the waves of the net or i can get in touch

TG: i could send a heap of sick beats wrapped around legendary rap

EB: heh, sure!

EB: seeya later!

TG: later

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

So, he wasn’t any closer to finding anything out. Except maybe the additional knowledge that Dave definitely didn’t know anything about what his Bro really was.

He groaned and leaned back in his chair. What should he do now?

There was no other way he could gain information, besides talking to Bro, and would he actually give anything new away?

A flash of insight pinged on in his brain. Of course! The wolves! He could ask if Bro knew those two wolves that he’d seen earlier. Why hadn’t he just done that before instead of trying to find other ways of acquiring answers?

… Maybe because Bro was evasive?

John rubbed at his left arm, staring at the computer screen in thought. He’d ask him outright about it. No beating around the bush.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

EB: hey bro. i’ve got a question i want to ask.

TT: If it’s about the wolves, I already told you; don’t bother.

EB: it is about the wolves, but this is important.

TT: I don’t care.

EB: do you know a gray and a black wolf?

TT: No. I don’t.

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

What.

Did he just…?

Frowning, John quickly clicked on Bro’s chumhandle again before he could sign off.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

EB: bro. you do know them, don’t you?

TT: I don’t. Stop asking.

EB: bro i’m just curious. the gray one broke into my house yesterday, you know. i just want to know why.

TT: It broke into your house?

EB: yeah! i think it ended up waking me up. i told my dad that it’d been a raccoon that’d broke in. i don’t know if he believed me or not.

TT: Look, just stop asking about stuff like this okay?

EB: then tell me what’s going on!

TT: …

TT: Fine, I’ll tell you, but only about them. If you ask anything more about it, I’ll delete you from my chumhandle list, got it?

EB: got it.

TT: I’ll meet up with you where we talked last time.

EB: okay!

EB: i’ll be there shortly.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

* * *

 

The wind howled around him, forcing him to wrap his arms around himself and struggle to keep himself warm.

He was lucky that Dad had let him go out at all. With the weather as it was, it could very well end up pelting down with rain at any moment. Still, he’d told him that he wouldn’t be long and that he wouldn’t go too far. If it did start to pour it down, he’d be able to rush back home within a few minutes.

Bro sat down beside him.

He seemed… grim. His deadpan expression contorted a little by the slightest of frowns and the smallest of downturns to the corner of his lips.

“The gray wolf is the omega of the pack,” he said lowly. “He works for the black wolf; the alpha.”

“Why did the gray wolf break into my house?”

Bro breathed in deeply, and then let it out slowly. “He was probably ordered to do it.”

John’s brows furrowed. Ordered to break into his house? Why?

“It’s his job as the omega of the pack. Anything that the alpha orders him to do, he has to do it. Otherwise, he’ll be punished.” Bro gave a nonchalant shrug. “Probably the alpha’s just being a nosy bastard. He’s been getting more restless as of late.”

And as humans…? What were they like? John wanted to voice his thoughts out loud so badly. He shifted position a little in his seat, leaning more toward the right, and kicked his legs out in an effort to keep himself focused on other things.

“These actions as wolves were passed on from their past days as humans. Back when werewolves were simply myths, the current alpha acted as leader of his hand-picked group.”

“Sounds like a troublemaker,” John said.

“Yeah, he was. Still is, to some extent…”

“Can I… just ask one more question?”

With a slight furrow to his brow, Bro looked at him. “What?”

“What are they called?” That sounded perfectly fine. It wasn’t as if he was asking something totally related to the whole werewolf thing, right? Bro couldn’t say anything against that.

Running a hand across his face, Bro sighed.

“They’re called Clubs Deuce and Jack Noir.”


	10. Damage Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I merged both chapters ten and eleven just for you, lovely readers! Many thanks for the read, kudos and comments, they're all very much appreciated. :)

He couldn’t sleep.

Every time that John managed to drift off into slumberland, a snap of sharp imaginary teeth jumped him into wakefulness again.

What was it? Why were these nightmares creeping in at the edge of his vision?

He tugged his blankets up around his chin, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to fight against his running thoughts.

A quiet croon ripped into the silence of the night.

He sat up, his fingers curling tightly into the cover’s fabric.

The same song echoed through the window and slipped into his skull.

The building weariness was immediately wiped away. Swept out of him by the soft call.

In one quick movement, John pushed back the covers and stood up. The floor’s cold surface seeping into the soles of his bare feet. He walked over to the window and peered out.

A gray wolf warily hovered close to the entranceway. It hunkered down, its head tilted lightly back, its mouth open – singing.

John had a sudden piercing feeling; it was calling for him, waiting for his response. His eyes flicked over to the door.

Should he risk it?

What if Dad woke up?

What if he was already awake? The soft song of the wolf yanking him from his sleep much like it had yanked the sleep out of John’s mind.

He gently bit his lower lip, eyes focusing back upon the gray omega.

What had Bro said he was called? Something… Deuce. What kind of name was that anyway? It sounded just as fake as Bro’s.

He breathed in deeply and let it out through his nose. He’d already decided on what he was going to do; it was just a matter of actually enacting it.

He turned his back on the window and tiptoed over to his drawers, dragging out a shirt, sweater and jeans.

* * *

 

The night was a soothing medley of ice and quiet. Perfect for when a guy wanted to do shit all.

Bro slumped down heavily on the couch, his veiled gaze falling beyond the table to stare at nothing in particular. In one hand, he held a cold glass of beer, in the other the remote.

It was fucking good to be human.

Fantastic to – just for once – be able to sit back and do jack-all, instead of racing through the forest like a remixed version of the Headless Horseman. The rider replaced instead by a headless chicken.

He was pretty damn certain that Dave wouldn’t bother him, especially with that looming threat of a multitude of ballerina themed smuppets dumped over his screeching head from his hidden trapdoor.

This was his time. A chilling session for him and himself alone.

The doorbell rang.

Bro glanced at it, then huffed out a quiet breath, getting to his feet.

The beer was left on the table, the remote following it as a comrade, and Bro flashstepped over to the door.

Yanking it open, snappy words ready on the tip of his tongue, he glowered at his interruptor.

Fuck.

With the smallest of snarls on his lips stood Noir, his one working ebony eye set in a cold glare.

“The kid’s getting in too deep,” he growled, his gravelly voice clashing against the noiseless air.

“I’ve told him next to nothing about you,” Bro retorted, struggling to erase the hostility from his tone. God, he hated this man. “Unless you count the capering ponies that I subtly mentioned amble about through the woods at night.”

Jack snorted, shoving his way past Bro to saunter into the room. “He knows enough about us to be a fuckin’ problem.”

_That’s alright, just come waltzing into my house like you own the place, fucking bastard._

Bro closed the door (although he felt more like slamming it shut, but he didn’t want Dave coming down to this) and turned around with his arms folded. “He’s just a kid. If he told someone that he knows a grown man that turns into a wolf at any time of the day, who’d believe him?”

“It doesn’t matter. The fact that he knows is enough.” Jack scowled, a nasty look for him, reeking of threats and menace. But when did he ever look like sugar and spice and everything nice? “He’s goin’. Demolished, kaput, fuckin’ dead. End of story.”

Hooking a thumb into one of the loops on his trousers belt, Bro casually leaned to the side; faking an air of couldn’t-care-less. Inside he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, his heart racing. “He ain’t a danger.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Jack snarled. “It’s too late anyway. He’s gonna die, tonight. The plan’s already in motion.”

“… What?”

“You heard me, Strider. The kid is going to die.”

“You’re fucking insane. He hasn’t done anything wrong.” He couldn’t contain the growl, it slipped out, coating his tone with a slice of the anger he suddenly felt building up inside him.

Jack shrugged in an unconcerned manner. “It don’t matter. He’s done for. I sent Deuce after him. The imbecile’s probably ripped his throat out already.” He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, then his lighter, and headed over to the door.

“Next time,” he growled, rolling his singular exposed eye in Bro's direction, “think before you reveal yourself to an outsider. Either that or kill ‘em.” He tugged open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Bro ran a hand through his hair, breathing out a heavy sigh. Brilliant, just fucking brilliant. All of his hopes of a nice quiet night in were shattered. He’d thought that Noir would try something upon knowing that the kid had knowledge of them, but not like this.

Panic was racing through him now, and fear; fear for John.

His hands dropped down to his side. He clenched them into fists.

He wasn’t going to let Noir get away with this.

Dave would be fine on his own. He’d left him alone like this enough times to know that. He’d taught him to handle himself in a fight.

He couldn’t leave the kid alone in this.

He swept out of the house. The cold ripping through him like the razor-sharp teeth of a great white shark’s.

That fucking kid would be the death of him.

* * *

 

A shiver ran down his spine, a mixture of cold and something else.

John couldn’t exactly pinpoint how he felt. It was all a heap of rising feelings that were stacked one on top of the other.

Deuce was a few feet ahead of him, pausing to glance back every so often to ensure that he was still following him.

Even from here John could see him shake. Possibly from the scream of his instincts telling him to get the fuck away from this human before he tried anything. It made him wonder, wonder why this Jack guy was so hellbent on finding out who he was. It wasn’t as if he’d done anything to garner attention. There was a flash of wary amber eyes looking out from a wolf face. … Well, maybe a little.

He breathed out, his sigh misting before his eyes before fading into nothing in the gloom.

In the dim light, he could still pick out the colours of the wolf’s fur; grays and dirty white. It looked dull in the shadows.

Deuce turned his head to look back at him again, his ears tilting backwards. For a moment, his hazel eyes glowed green, and then he was looking forward again, hurrying across the pavement in an almost crouch.

John picked up the pace, gripping one hand over the other as he concentrated on pursuing the quick moving shape of the wolf. He hesitated at the edge of the woods, and paused.

With his tail hung low, Deuce turned around to look at him.

* * *

 

With every slap of his feet against the hard concrete, he thought of how much time he had lost. Every single step forward was another second taken from the present. From getting to John before the end.

He should never have found the kid. He should never have tried to harm him - back in the forest - back when he wasn’t exactly himself. Why did everything have to be so damned complicated?

He hadn’t wanted this.

It was just making everything fucking worse.

* * *

 

Blue eyes widened.

A hush.

A snarl.

Blood.

* * *

 

Stillness clung to every bit of the town. Spreading out to the forest beyond it, polluting it with its lull.

This wasn’t the safe kind.

Bro heard the shattering snarl that ripped through the silence. Saw the unmistakable silhouette of the Brute darting toward its source.

A rumbling growl clawed its way up his throat, snapping out into the air with a bite that sounded more animal than human.

He raced after the shadow, anger rising up inside him in a fiery mess.

The sickening twist of the change slammed against his chest.


	11. Vehemence

John stood there, panting. Gripped tightly in his left hand was a hammer, slick with blood.

He was fucking glad for his reflexes.

Immensely so.

Deuce’s unmoving body lay spread-eagled before him. A sad small figure that seemed completely harmless now. It was as if he’d never charged; pounced at John with his jaws wide open, prepared to clamp down on his throat.

The realization of what had just happened gripped hold of him tightly, clenching around his heart.

He wavered on his feet, suddenly feeling as if the ground wasn’t as firmly beneath him as it used to be.

Suddenly, there was a shadow. Large, dangerous. Teeth glinting in the dim light. It padded closer, cold violence aglow in its eyes.

There was a discordant, thundering snarl. An immense silhouette swept out of the darkness to leap upon the growling blackness.

The enemy was sent bowling back.

John took a couple of steps swiftly backward, his eyes wide and staring.

A gray and brown wolf tore into the side of the large blue-black wolf’s neck, ravaging it with vicious shakes of his head.

John’s breath caught in his throat.

Bro.

His adversary bared his teeth and snapped, nipping at Bro’s fore-legs, then attempted to roll over to dislodge him. Bro leapt back, his hackles raised. In one swift movement, as the dark wolf shifted to lunge at Bro, he plunged – ripping into the flesh of its fore-leg. The wolf yelped in pain. Snaking forwards it bit down on Bro’s ear and pulled backward.

Growling, Bro gave in to the force of it, letting the other wolf pull him in close. Without warning, he tore free of the wolf’s hold, sinking his teeth into its neck in the next moment.

And –

John couldn’t watch anymore.

He looked away and tried to block out the feral din.

It ricocheted through his skull, making it hard to think. Making it hard to do anything.

Then, it stopped.

John looked back.

Blood coated the earthy floor, looking slick and black in the gloom. It seeped out from the twitching body of the blue-black wolf, and John quickly looked back away, nausea swiftly creeping up in his throat.

Bro was standing still beside it, his amber eyes fixed on John. Blood caked his muzzle, dribbling down to silently land on the grass below.

“I wasn’t stupid,” John told him quietly. “When you agreed with me when I said that the alpha sounded like a troublemaker; I knew. There was a - a chill I felt when I saw him watching me from the forest. The black wolf, that’s him, right?” His eyes found the (now) unmoving body of the wolf. Was _that_ him? … It… looked different. He didn’t know what to think right now.

He felt cold. And not just because of the weather. It was a kind of emptiness. A sensation that settled in the pit of his stomach and stayed there.

He bit his lip. “When Deuce came calling at my door, I knew that I couldn’t just ignore it. He’d probably be out there all night and maybe come back each and every night after this one. I didn’t feel… _right_ knowing that this Jack had ordered one of his minions to follow me, or whatever the heck he was trying to do. So I took my hammer with me.” He lifted it, showing it to Bro. He watched.

“I… I didn’t want this,” John continued a quiver now in his voice. “I didn’t want to kill anyone, and-” He broke off, gulping back the rising storm of panic and fear. “I think I might have.”

Bro twitched his left ear and, slowly, looking like a puppet on a string, he shook his head.

John blinked, staring at him in confusion.

Bro’s gaze flicked over to Deuce’s small body.

John turned to look.

He was breathing.

John let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“He’s… alive.”

This is what brought him to his knees. The realization that he hadn’t just killed someone. Out of everything.

The cold emptiness was still at war with his feelings. He didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand the true nature of everything that had happened just now.

It was as if he hadn’t really been a part of it. Like it was happening to someone else. Not him.

“What’s… going to happen now?” he croaked.

Bro turned his head to look back at the town.

John knew what he meant: _Head back._

Shakily, he pushed himself up onto his feet. He turned away from the scene, trying not to think about what had just happened. He began to make his way back.

Bro padded after him like a lupine shadow.


	12. Sub-Zero

The way back was cold and quiet.

John felt like his brain had been placed in a refrigerator and set to sub-zero.

He could see Bro leaping silently, stealthily, from building rooftop to building rooftop. There was definitely something to what he’d said before about his wolfy speed. He could barely hear him drop onto each surface.

It was almost like he was still completely alone, even when Bro was within a close distance of him.

His legs still felt jellified. It was like everything was going to fall down around him at any moment. Right now, he just wanted to get home.

When his door came within sight, Bro leapt down to stand behind him. The space between them felt too large. He didn’t care if he was suddenly turning around to stare at a giant wolf. It was still Bro. He could see the comprehension in his eyes.

John stayed where he was, his hands clenching and unclenching (his hammer tucked securely back in place on his belt). The wind shrieked around him, the cold digging into his skin, but he didn’t care.

He fixed his cerulean eyes on Bro’s amber ones. He didn’t flinch.

Slowly, John stepped closer. Bro watched him, his ears twitching back and forth, catching noises that John couldn’t. Carefully, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Bro’s neck. He could smell that musky lupine scent, mingled with the freshness of the woods. He pressed his face into his ruff. Bro’s eyes closed. “Thank you,” he murmured.

He stepped away, smiling gently at Bro. It faded soon after. “You better get going before someone sees you.”

Bro shook his head slowly from side to side; a struggle to pull off in a wolf body surrounded by animalistic thoughts.

Before John had the chance to say anything further, Bro vanished.

It was as if the wind had just swept him away, leaving behind nothing but a quickly fading impression of where he had just been.

John stared at the spot for a while, his mind working over everything that he had witnessed, and then he turned, pulled out his key, and entered the house.

* * *

 

The rush of the wind. Quick flashes of colours brighter than the average dull surroundings.

The sharp reek of blood.

Bro stopped, eyeing the unmoving corpse of the Brute with distaste. He bared the corner of his lips, revealing a row of sharp teeth underneath.

Dead.

Good.

He hadn’t liked the bastard anyway.

Clean up. Clear all the evidence away.

To witness this would cause suspicion in outsiders.

Silently, he crouched, grabbing the bloodied scruff of the immense blue-black wolf. He flashed away with him, uncaring whether the pull would tear apart the limbs of the Brute during the ride.

He lowered him amongst the fallen leaves, close to the old relic that resided there. He had no idea what it could possibly be, broken and in disrepair as it was. To him, it was just what marked the heart of this forest. That was all.

He kicked dirt over the prone form.

Other animals would come to clear it away later.

He flashed back to the borders.

His eyes drifted to the small gray form of Deuce.

He was breathing evenly now, it was just a matter of time before he woke up.

Bro waited.

A sensation of pain, blurred images of his surroundings alerted him to Deuce’s consciousness. He was awake.

Bro bared his teeth in silence.

The gray wolf tottered to his feet, shaking his head in an effort to clear it.

Deuce produced a new link to his pain, which rang in Bro’s mind. He shoved it viciously away.

Carefully, slowly, he approached.

Deuce turned with a jump. His eyes wide, his ears falling back against his head.

As soon as he saw Bro, he relaxed, wagging his tail gently, sending him an image of a boy and a hammer.

Bro snapped at him. He ripped the image apart, shoving a mental image of Jack’s cold wolf gaze across to him. Emphasizing it with Jack’s aggression at Deuce for not accomplishing what he had told him to do. Bro growled. Deuce flinched and cowered.

His message was clear: _‘Tell the boss what you failed to do, and he will kill you’._

Deuce whimpered quietly then gingerly turning, he limped back into the safety of the woods.

Satisfied with what he had done, Bro twitched his ears back, listening for any signs of Noir’s familiar footfall, and then he flashed away.


	13. Of Movie Marathons

Ever since that day an unspoken bond had formed between Bro and John.

Where there had once been scarce contact between them, they would now commonly pester each other over Pesterchum. They talked more and learned more about each other over the two weeks that trickled on by.

However, everything wasn’t as peachy and fresh as John wanted it to be. Another thing had blossomed up ever since that day; worry. John couldn’t help but feel as if danger could be lurking just around the corner. Sure, he could take care of himself. He’d proven that much when he’d whacked Deuce into a stupor. But, it was still there, this worry that nagged at the back of his brain.

He now knew one thing though. He wouldn’t let his guard down.

His hammer was always tucked into his belt now, hidden from view beneath the ends of his sweaters.

He spent more time inside now, away from the cold and the threat of harm. Not that he couldn’t look out for himself. He was perfectly certain that he could! It was just… the temperature. It was way colder now than it once was.

Outside the air hit you like an iceberg, freezing to your skin and refusing to let go until you retreated back into the warmth of the house. In John's case, he always ended up beating a hasty retreat to the house now.

Sure, he was used to chilly days. But these days were way beyond chilly. It was as if Maple Valley wanted to turn over a new ice-cold leaf and metamorphosize into a clone of Alaska.

And it was so annoying.

It meant that John was confined in the house. Bored and unable to do much of anything.

Today was pretty much the same case.

With Dad out working John was left to wander around the house in a zombified manner, with absolutely shit all to do.

So, he decided that the only thing he would be able to do right now is pester Bro.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

EB: broooo!

EB: bro, you there?

TT: What?

EB: i’m bored as heck.

TT: Then find something to do.

EB: there’s nothing to do!

TT: Then go outside.

EB: i’d turn into an icicle! it’s way too cold!

TT: Why are you even talking to me about this?

EB: because you can help me find a way to occupy myself.

TT: I doubt it.

TT: Unless growing wings and flying out of the open window is an option.

EB: pfft, no!

EB: bro, is dave there?

TT: Yeah, in his room complaining to himself about the weather. Why?

EB: ask him whether he’d like to come round and we could watch a movie or something!

TT: Ask him yourself.

EB: pleeease bro. you could come round as well.

EB: we could have like a movie marathon day or something.

TT: … Fine, but I’m not telling Dave about it. Tell him yourself.

EB: fine. i’ll tell him how you’re too lazy to tell him yourself.

TT: Says the hypocrite who couldn’t be bothered to do it himself in the first place.

EB: pffff!

EB: i’ll get some movies out from my awesome stash.

EB: they’ll be awesome.

EB: and you’ll love them.

TT: Really? Let me rephrase what you just said into Strider terms:

TT: They’ll be shitty.

TT: And we’ll hate them.

EB: pff, whatever dude!

EB: just make sure you come round.

TT: Yeah, yeah.

EB: i’ll go tell dave.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

EB: hey dave!

TG: oh hey john

EB: do you want to come round mine?

EB: i was thinking that we could have a movie marathon day!

TG: oh man

TG: ill bring all the snacks

TG: all of them

TG: ill fill your house up with popcorn and shit

EB: sweet!

EB: ill be waiting for all of those awesome snacks and the coolkid that’ll be accompanying them.

TG: ill be there soon

TG: gonna get changed into my superhero outfit that protects me from the freezing lazer beams that are blowing around outside

EB: by the way, bro will be coming too.

TG: wait what

TG: why

TG: hes an ass

TG: hell spoil the whole movie party vibe

EB: no he won’t!

EB: he’ll be there as like, a guardian-y person, just in case my dad comes home early.

TG: oh

TG: still

TG: hes a douchebag and will be the douchiest of douchebags once hes come over

EB: and what are you like?

TG: im a pleasant douchebag though

TG: hes just downright nasty

EB: just hurry your ass round here.

EB: ill be waiting!

TG: waiting for my ass or me?

EB: pfft! both, obviously.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

Now all John had to do was bring out his awesome stash of awesome films!

He hurried off to get them, carefully placing them close to the couch in a small tower as soon as he’d found and picked out the ones that he wanted.

No matter what Bro said, they were going to watch these movies and love them.

They were so awesome! He’d picked out the ones that he was sure that they would like and then ones that he loved too. Couldn’t go wrong with that. Especially since he had them planned out in a set order. He’d make them watch films like Die Hard first, then finish up the marathon with Ghostbusters and Con Air.

He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, a wide grin spreading across his lips. This was gonna be so fun!

Maybe he should get some snack stuff together? But he guessed that Dave would be bringing heck loads anyway. So there wouldn’t be much of a point.

He glanced over at the clock, then to the door in turn.

It shouldn’t take too long for them to get ready and come over, right?

They didn’t live too far from him so it wasn’t like they had a giant cross-countryish walk ahead of them or whatever.

He couldn’t find it in himself to sit down.

He was too full of energy.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long.

The doorbell buzzed and he was over there like shot. Of course, he changed tactics once he was standing before the door. He straightened up and cleared his throat, not wanting to seem like he was way too excited over this (because he was, like heck!). Although, the instant that he opened the door, he ended up beaming up at Bro and Dave and bouncing up and down a little on the spot anyway.

“Hey! You took your time!” he joked, hopping back away to allow the Striders to enter.

“Yeah, we ended up stuck in a time machine which took us back to the Jurassic era,” Dave said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he casually strolled his way in. “We had to hitch a ride from a friendly dinosaur to get back to it after we’d been chased by a pack of hungry T-rexs for a good half hour.” 

“Dave fucked up,” Bro added, his voice echoing back to them from the living room (how’d he got in there so fast?). “He messed around with the buttons and short-circuited the engine.”

John folded his arms and gave his friend a mock frown. “Dave, how could you?”

He spread his arms out wide. “What? You can’t blame a guy for trying to work out how to operate a thousand buttons.”

John giggled and flashed him an amiable grin before making his way into the living room, where Bro had already made himself at home. He was slumped on the couch, watching as they entered. He cocked a brow and smirked at Dave. “I’ve already got the best seat.”

“There’s still the other half of the couch your fat-ass hasn’t covered,” Dave retorted.

Bro stretched out further. Leaning his head back against the couch's armrest and rolling it to look back at John and Dave. “So much for the other half. My fat-ass has already got it covered.”

“You’re gonna have to move up, Bro,” John said, folding his arms and frowning in mock anger. “I’ll need to sit down, you know?”

“What if I don’t want to move?”

“Then I’ll have to make you.”

“Scary,” he deadpanned, stretching out further along the couch.

“You’re just a big kid,” John said, shaking his head and trying to hide the smile that was so not working its way onto his lips.

“The biggest,” he agreed.

“Pfft, you know what? I’m just going to sit on your legs if you don’t move.”

“Bring it.”

“What kind of movies are we going to be watching?” Dave asked, pulling off his scarf and draping it over the back of the couch.

“Just wait and see and you’ll find out,” John said, smiling. “Oh, did you bring the snacks?”

“Oh shit, yeah. They’re still outside. I’ll go get them.” Dave left the room.

“So, a movie marathon, huh?” Bro shifted a little in his seat.

John nodded. “Yup! I’ll put one of them on while we’re waiting for Dave.” He shot Bro a warning look. “If you don’t move your butt by the time I’ve done, then I _will_ sit on your legs.”

Bro shrugged casually. “That don’t bother me.” But he moved anyway.

John shook his head with a small scoff, and then crouched to place the disc in the DVD drive. As soon as he’d scooped up the remote and pressed play, he headed over to the couch and flopped on it. “We’re gonna end up being squashed because of you,” John joked.

Bro snorted, rubbing at his subtly scarred ear (a leftover aftermath of the fight that John didn’t want to think about). “Maybe I should’ve just stayed at home then, watching crappy TV and getting drunk.”

“Nope, because then you’d be missing out.” As Bro glanced back at him John smiled warmly up at him.

The front door slammed shut and Dave made his reappearance, holding a plastic bag in each hand. “Got the goods.”

“Sweet! I’ve just started the movie.” John gestured to the screen.

Dave nodded and sat down beside John, placing the bags on the floor. “We can just pick-and-choose from the goody bags here. I’ve brought all sorts.”

“Awesome.” John shot Dave a grin.

“Crappy,” Bro added.

John glared at him. “I bet you hadn’t picked out any of this loot yourself! I bet it was all Dave.”

“Obviously, or it wouldn’t all be a load of shitty sweets.”

John opened his mouth to retaliate, but the sweet serenade of the film’s opening scene made him close it. He didn’t want to interrupt the screen-time of such a series of awesome movies with some dumb commentary! Nope, he wanted to just enjoy these with his bro and… Bro. Pfft, that sounded weird.

But of course, it didn’t exactly turn out like that.

Pretty much all of the way through the movie marathon Dave and Bro talked; adding in their own little comments to someone’s line, or pointing out stupid things that ended up with John snorting up his drink on more than one occasion.

Eventually, he just gave up attempting to actually take a casual sip of whatever fizzy pop he had on hand and just casually placed it on the coffee table instead. Where it was promptly abandoned and forgotten as John soon joined in alongside the Striders commentary rambles.

He didn’t let them do that once Con Air came on.

No, they weren’t allowed.

… They still managed to slip a few silly drawled lines in anyway. And John laughed.

When the time came for them to leave, John was feeling way better than he had earlier. Well, he was now being crushed underneath the weight of tiredness, but he could push that away for a bit longer.

It didn’t even matter that Dad had stayed at work the whole day through (he’d sent him a text earlier explaining that he’d be late). John was perfectly content and in no way bored. Just sleepy.

He waved goodbye to Bro and Dave as they left. Just managing to avoid catching Dave in the face with his hand as he rushed back in to give him a hug.

As the door closed, John sighed and beamed. Today had been so awesome.

He was so glad that he’d met Bro because it meant that he now knew Dave too.

And that was awesome.

… He really needed to get to bed. Awesome was repeating itself too much in his head. And that rhymed.

Locking the door and turning off the lights and the TV downstairs, he clumped his way up to his room and flopped onto his bed.

He’d get changed into his jammies soon.

Yup, he wouldn’t fall asleep with his day clothes on. Yeah, that would just be stupid.

… He fell asleep anyway.


	14. Ninja Dancing Around Confectionary

The next day John woke up with a start and promptly realized that he was still wearing his day clothes. He rolled out of bed and went to take a shower, hoping that it hadn't broken down and forced the water into being as freezing cold as it was outside lately.

It wasn’t, which was a plus.

As soon as he’d finished changing into a fresh shirt, a jacket and a pair of trousers, he headed downstairs.

“Good morning,” Dad greeted him with a simple nod.

“Morning!” John replied maybe a tad too loudly. But he didn’t really care. Today felt like it was going to be a good day.

Dad watched him rush off into the kitchen, where the clatter of a bowl on the worktop and various other sounds could now be heard. He followed him in. “My apologies for coming back so late yesterday, John,” he said.

“That’s okay! I had some friends come round and we watched some movies together, so I wasn’t bored or anything. Besides, you let me know earlier through text that you’d be late, so it’s not that big of a deal.” John poured out his cereal and pulled out a spoon from the drawer.

“Oh? You had friends over?”

John nodded as he pulled the milk out of the fridge.

“That’s good to know.” Dad smiled gently at him. It was a grand thing to think that John was finding friends beyond those he’d chatted to online.

As John walked past him with his breakfast, Dad ruffled his hair. “… I’m proud of you, son.”

John smiled up at him, delighted that Dad was showing this rare form of affection. Usually, he just portrayed it through his many pranks. (Pranks that John one-upped awesomely a lot of the time! … No, not really. Although, he had gotten the better of his dad occasionally!)

“I’ll be baking later. I might make it a celebrative ceremony for your friends,” Dad said, smiling still.

John pulled a face. “I’ll be fine with pie, Dad. Or anything else that isn’t confectionary.”

“Not even a cupcake?” Dad said with a chuckle.

“No, not even a cupcake.”

“Very well, then, son. I’ll make you a cupcake.” Dad slipped into the kitchen.

“Daaad, no!” John cried, racing in after him.

But, it was too late. He was already bringing out the ingredients.

Huffing loudly, John stomped back into the living room, plopped himself down heavily on the couch and silently ate his breakfast.

Why did Dad always have to do stuff like this?

He didn’t even like cake!

He hated it!

He began to grumble to himself about how stupid Dad was for thinking he’d even try to eat any of the confection stuff that he’d made.

He was still grumbling when he went and placed his empty bowl in the kitchen sink.

He glanced in Dad’s direction, who was incredibly engrossed in making the best darn cupcakes that you would ever see in your life.

… He was doing it on purpose. John was certain of it.

He stomped back out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs to his room.

 … He had left his phone in here somewhere and he was tempted to try it out after so long without bothering with it besides the odd text to Dad (Pesterchum was far easier to use than his phone).

He was going to ask Dave and Bro for their numbers. That would cheer him up at least! Get his mind away from baking and all of the hellish things that it stood for.

So, he quickly asked both of the Striders for their numbers, rummaged around his room for his phone, and input their numbers in before it could die.

Leaving it to charge, he went back over to his computer.

He wasn’t going to stay in this house and smell that horrible cakey stink all day. He’d go round to Bro’s.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

EB: hey.

EB: bro.

TT: What?

EB: can i come round yours?

TT: You mean today?

EB: yeah, today!

EB: my dad’s making the worst kind of foodstuff known to all mankind and i don’t want to smell it’s horrible stink anymore than i should.

TT: And what kind of horrible foodstuff is it?

EB: you know!

EB: cake.

TT: Ah, I see.

TT: It’s the most toxic of substances, made to drive men insane with just one bite. I respect you for having to put up with such crap.

EB: yeah! well, i don’t know… it probably could do stuff like that, thinking about how dad always tries to make me eat it.

TT: Maybe you’re already insane.

EB: pff, but if i was, then i wouldn’t be so horrified by the prospect of eating it in the first place!

TT: Sure, you can come round.

EB: really?

EB: awesome!

EB: i’ll be round asap.

EB: just gotta… tell dad that i’m leaving. ugh.

TT: Be wary of the cake, kid. It’ll blow up in your face before you can say “eughhh”.

EB: pfft, i’ll see you later. after i’ve gone through with this. *shivers*

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

And so begins John’s quest; to brave the terrible sub-species of cake and all that it entails.

He’s already dreading it.

He really doesn’t want to go down there and face it.

The smell.

It’s horrible.

Breathing in deeply, he made his way back down towards the kitchen.

* * *

 “… Dad?”

“Yes, John?”

“Can I… go round to my friend’s house? They don’t live too far from here and… I’ll be, uh, careful.”

The stink was unbearable. John didn’t know how much longer he could cope taking in its stenc.

It was making him feel nauseous.

“Why, yes, son. Of course, you can. Just make sure you’re back home in time for a taste-tester of this delicious cupcake.”

“No. I won’t.” John frowned in the direction of the enemy. That cupcake would be vile and horrible, and he would do his damndest to make sure that he didn’t take a single bite of that horrible colourful looking thing.

How did Dad make them so fast? Was it just practice, skill?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Right now, all he wanted to do was abscond the fuck out of the house.

“I’ll be back later,” John said, quickly making his exit.

* * *

 

He was out the door in swift time. And he was glad of it.

Already, the fresh air was driving the terrible odour of cupcakes out of his nostrils. He breathed in the outdoorsy smell deeply and then set off in the direction of the Strider’s house.

Apart from that horrifying start to an otherwise wonderful day, things were starting to look up again.

John felt happier now that he was out of the house, and he felt more free, somehow. It wasn’t like the usual feeling either. It was as if it was intensified by ten and thrown back to him from the depths of an unrestricted section in space. Although, all of space was unrestricted and, why was he suddenly thinking about stuff like this?

Soon, he was in sight of the unforgettable coloured Strider house. He knocked on the door and waited.

Bro answered within a few seconds of him knocking.

“Whoa! How’d you do that?” John asked, staring up at him with his mouth open.

Bro shrugged. “… Magic.”

“What? You’re a wizard as well now?” he said with a playful grin, as he walked past him.

“I’m a wizard, John,” Bro said, closing the door and heading after him. "When did you become so small, anyway. You were a giant on the day you told me that I was a wizard."

“… Are you saying that I look like Hagrid?”

“Yeah, you just need to grow a beard out, sprout up taller than me and take a run-down looking umbrella with you everywhere you go.”

“Not to mention vocalize in a gruff, tough accent, though I don’t think I’d be able to manage that just yet.” John fell into thought for a moment. Would he ever actually get a deep voice?

“Just wait a few years and it’ll come to you,” Bro said, flopping down on the living room couch and shifting up for John, one of his arms resting on the backrest, the other on the armrest. “You’ll sound like Batman before you know it.”

“Where’s Dave, anyway?” John asked, sitting down beside him.

“Out,” Bro said simply.

“Oh. Shopping?”

“Buying some beautiful ballerina music to dance to when he comes back home.”

“When will he be coming back?”

Bro shrugged. “Later, I dunno.”

“You know, you’re the best guardian to Dave. Really.”

Bro smirked. “You know it. I worry about him so much that I creep after him and watch him secretly from the shadows when he’s out doing his own things. Just to ensure that he’s not going to get hurt at any moment, you know.”

John laughed and dug his elbow into Bro’s side. “You’re an ass, you know that Bro?”

Bro’s lips twitched upwards. “Never knew that I was secretly a donkey.”

“Pfft, shut up,” John laughed, grinning up at him.

“I don’t think that’s a possibility. I’m cursed to always talk, whether it’s out loud, or through my beautiful text of golden flames.”

John couldn’t help but smile. Though, it dissolved when one particular question came to mind.

He could feel Bro’s questioning look boring into him. He didn’t really want to bring it up. Not at all. It would ruin this pleasant mood. But, he had to.

“Will… Jack try and get his lackeys to attack me again?” he asked, purposely not looking in Bro’s direction.

He could hear him take a breath sharply in, then he exhaled loudly, blowing strands of John’s hair over his eyes. He brushed them out of the way as Bro spoke, “Once he’s found out what’s happened; he’ll definitely have it out for you again.”

“… Oh.” John twiddled his thumbs, his brow creasing.

Bro shifted a little in his seat, turning his head to look at the TV screen. “… Don’t worry, kid. I’ll look out for you.”

“What?” Did he just say that, or were his ears playing tricks on him?

One side of his lips curved upwards in a smirk. “Nothin’.”

John frowned and studied him, trying to grab at anything that’d prove what he’d thought he’d heard Bro say.

The door slammed open, causing John to jump.

“Bro! Look who’s back.”

“Santa? Oh, wow! I’ve been waiting forever for you to come barging down my door with a sack full of presents waiting to be flung down at my feet,” Bro said, his tone thick with feigned surprise and excitement.

John rolled his eyes, and got to his feet. “Hey Dave!”

“Oh, sup John.” Dave clomped over, dropping his bag of stash on the floor, and pulled John into a hug.

“Oh, well, that’s one way of greeting someone,” John said with a hint of laughter in his voice. He hugged him back, then stepped away, crouching instead near the plastic bags. “What ya got in here?”

Dave shrugged. “Some music and a game or two. I was running low on awesome fuel and decided to go out and get some more.”

“You’re still low on awesome fuel,” Bro told him.

“Says you just sitting there doing shit-all.”

Bro raised a hand in something that could’ve been a half-assed shrug. “I have all the awesome fuel I need sitting here, chilling. It’s in my nature. Later on, I’ll be using a small portion of my awesome fuel to booby-trap the whole house.”

“No, Bro. Don’t you dare.”

John looked between them, trying to stifle a giggle. The pair of them were total dorks. “Pardon me for intruding on your battle of the dorks but, I'm gonna' borrow Dave for a while. Do you wanna go upstairs and test out some of these new video games of yours?”

“Says the dorkiest of dorks. And yeah, sure.” Dave scooped up his bags of loot and made for the stairs.

“Go kick his ass,” Bro told John.

“Will do!” John saluted to him and raced up the stairs after his friend.


	15. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited the previous chapters, getting rid of a few errors here and there, just a heads up to y'all!

He’d beat him twice over though Dave won thrice. So, he guessed that it was his victory today. … Just for today.

He’d beat him at Mario Kart tomorrow, or maybe the day after that, or the day after that. Whatever the case, whichever day it turned out to be - he’d beat him.

Evening was fast approaching, the yellow-tinted light outside fading away to be replaced by a rusty orange.

It was almost time for him to head back home. He didn’t want Dad to worry.

He sighed as he plopped down onto the couch, his gaze slowly drawn to the television, which was loudly playing music. Was that… Sesame Street? Oh wow! He used to remember watching that sometimes with Dad when he was younger.

It was pretty cool.

Dave silently glanced at the screen, then ghosted himself away back into the land of his bedroom. From the looks of things, he didn’t like Sesame Street. … Huh. A mischievous grin slowly spread across John’s face.

He could prank him with something Sesame Street-related later.

Bro was quietly watching Count Dracula count bats.

“Do you like watching Sesame Street, Bro?” John asked.

“No, I hate it.” Bro didn’t even bother to look at him. Too engrossed in the TV, John guessed.

“Well, why are you watching it then?”

“Because it’s educational.”

“Pff, yeah, if you know nothing about maths and cookies, maybe.”

“It’s true. Although I hate this show so much, I am obliged to watch it due to its educational properties.”

“You’re weird, Bro.”

“So are you.”

John rubbed his left arm and turned back to the TV. “I… have to get home soon.”

“We can walk back with you if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s not too far from here anyway. About a ten minute walk.”

“Right.”

“Hey, John!” Dave yelled. “Why are you staying down there watching that crap?”

“Because it’s educational, Dave! Maybe you’d learn something from it!” John yelled back.

“Whatever dude. It’s your funeral.”

Smiling, John settled back against the backrest and glanced over at Bro.

He seemed… tense. As if something was bugging him. There was a slight crease to his brow and the hand closest to John was clenched.

“Is… everything alright Bro?”

“… I thought it’d been a while,” he said quietly.

“What…?” What did he mean?

Bro stood up. “I need to go.”

John stared up at him with the smallest of frowns. “Wait, what? Why?”

“I don’t -“ Bro wrapped his arms around himself as a shiver racked his frame.

John quickly got to his feet, his stomach plummeting. “Bro…?”

“This is the worst it’s… ever been. Never hurt so much…”

John bit his lip so hard that he felt pain bloom up from it. “Bro, go. You can’t… If it’s the change, you need to get out, now. Don’t just stand there like an idiot.” He stepped forward – Bro whipped round and snarled, his eyes flaring up from behind his shades. John flinched back, his heart clenching tightly in his chest.

His eyes… They looked like twin suns.

“Hey! Is everything alright down there?”

John heard Dave’s door open.

Panic engulfed him momentarily and he glanced towards the stairs, his eyes wide.

Bro gasped and fell back a couple of steps. “Don’t… let him come down. Don’t let him… see.”

 “John…?”

“It’s alright, Dave! It’s just the TV. I accidentally changed the channel.”

A pause. Then, “You derp.” And Dave’s door closed again.

A small fragment of John’s panic left in a flutter but, as he focused back on Bro again, it came crashing back into place.

He didn’t look well.

He was quiet now, clutching at his right shoulder, his fingers digging into it so hard that he was drawing blood. Panic, fear, worry. It all collected together in John’s chest.

Sucking in a breath, he carefully inched towards the front door and opened it. He walked back over to Bro, step by step, watching as the amber glow behind his shades dimmed and flickered brighter time-and-time again.

“Bro… The door’s open, okay?” John said, his voice a barely above a whisper. “Go out before it – it alters you fully.”

With a shaky nod, Bro headed towards the door.

John hesitated a moment, and then ran over to the stairs. “I’ll be leaving now, Dave! Bro says he’s going out and won’t be back for a while!”

“Alright, seeya later Egderp.”

“Seeya later, Striderp.”

John followed after Bro.

* * *

 

The air was as chilly as ever. John crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to stave off the cold, his eyes never leaving Bro.

He was crouched now, a short distance away from the house.

Did it… usually take this long for him to change?

John took a hesitant step forward.

“Don’t,” Bro growled. “Just… stay where you are.”

“Is it supposed to take this long?”

“No. This... is sudden. Never had it… like this before.”

John shifted on his feet; unsure whether he should leave, or stay. There was a wild look in the glow of Bro’s eyes. It was as if, at any moment, he’d attack him (the fear clenched tighter to his chest). Yet, he didn’t want to just part with him like this. He was in pain.

Bro looked back at him. “Go.”

“I can’t just-“

“Leave. John.”

A flash of an image of the wolf with Bro’s eyes imprinted itself in John’s mind.

“Bro, what if something happens to you?”

“I can… take care of myself,” Bro said.

John shook his head. “This is… wrong. You’re in pain. You don’t deserve this.”

Bro turned fully around, his hands clutching at his chest, his fingernails were talons burrowing into the material of his shirt. “… You don’t know that, John.”

“I do.”

“Shut the fuck up. And. _Leave._ ” A rumbling growl left his throat. He bared sharpening teeth at John.

He flinched back, one arm sub-consciously lifting away from his chest to protect him from the rising threat. “… Okay.” The word left him in a hoarse tone that didn’t sound like his.

He took a step back, trying to rip his gaze away from Bro, trying to escape those eyes that drilled sharp daggers into his own.

Wordlessly, he turned and hurried away.


	16. Vexatious Paper Shark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the comments, kudos and bookmarks! They're all really appreciated! <3
> 
> Happy 4/13, everyone! :)

The next few days felt the same as the one before.

John didn’t feel like doing much.

On that day, he’d arrived home to a father who’d looked worried the instant he’d stepped through the door.

He’d known something was wrong.

He hadn’t been able to tell him.

Couldn’t.

It was weird. Bad, almost, that he had to keep something like this a secret.

Bro was hurting.

He hadn’t thought that such stupid things as fake werewolf movies could be so truthful.

Pain, and the shift.

But, it hadn’t been a movie that he’d witnessed. It had been _real._

Right now, he lay curled up on his bed, his face half-buried in his cushion. … He hoped Bro was okay. And Dave… Did Bro do this regularly enough for Dave to be alright by himself? The thought made him push himself slowly up into a sitting position. He stared over at the right side of his wall.

His phone trilled. He looked at it.

… A text. From Dave.

hey

you okay?

 

i’m fine.

are you okay? is bro back yet?

 

yeah he’s back

i’m used to him disappearing for days on end

it’s something he’s made a habit of for two and a half years now so its not like it’s a big deal

 

but, you must get worried.

i know i would if dad didn’t come back home after saying he’d be gone for a little while.

 

its fine

im fine

bro rang up earlier your dad picked up and said that you werent feeling well

 

yeah. it’s okay.

i’m feeling a bit better now.

 

bros saying that he thinks we should go round and drop off an unironic get well card

i dont know whats gotten into him

ever since hes come back from wherever-the-fuck-land he went hes been quiet

well quieter than usual

hes just leaving post-it notes everywhere

its like an ocean of them

you know im probably going to drown in them

just wake up

and find myself submerged under yellow piles of papery death

 

John giggled a little at that.

 

be careful!

there’s probably a whole sea-full of sharks in there too!

just, paper sharks, everywhere.

 

youll just end up calling round our house and theres just a moving wave of post-it notes with postcard shark fins patrolling the sunny surface

as you stare around in shock ill emerge from the deep riding on a bullshark made of british post-it notes plastered with images of colorful tea cups

ill offer you a ride and well both go flying through the sea of yellow and deeper into the abyss beyond

 

you’re high, dave.

 

and youre not

paper sharks?

please what kind of thing are we running here

 

As John burst into laughter, another trill from his phone caught his attention.

 

Calling round yours. Will have to be a polite gentledick to your father in order to see you, I’m sure.

 

shit bros just flashed off somewhere

ive got a bad feeling

 

he’s saying he’s coming round mine.

 

oh right

probably dropping off that weird unironic card or something

maybe hell shove a smuppet through your mailbox in the process of trying too hard in not being his usual self

 

pff, maybe!

i’ll head downstairs, I think.

talk to you later!

 

k

 

There was a knock at the door and the muffled sound of voices.

John stopped close to the landing. Oh no.

What would Dad think of Bro?

Oh god, what if he thinks he’s just some random weirdo or something? What if he thinks he’s a creep? Would Bro really shove one of those strange puppet things into the mailbox and leave it there?

Biting his lip, he edged closer to the stairs.

* * *

 

Internally, Bro felt a squeeze of panic around his chest as the door opened.

This’d be the first time that he would have seen John’s Dad face-to-face. He’d heard a fair bit about him in the past from the kid. To him, he sounded strict as fuck.

As electric-blue eyes bore into the protective veil of his shades, the first thought that truly crossed Bro’s mind in that moment was: He really did look strict as fuck.

He had this incredibly stern look on his face, his gaze judging Bro the instant he set eyes on him.

“Hey, Mr.Egbert,” he started, feeling ridiculous for this; feeling reeeally ridiculous for this. “I’m Dave’s bro, your son’s friend. I wanted to drop something off for him.” He pulled the card out and showed it to the man.

Mr.Egbert looked down at it, and then back to Bro. “I’ll make sure that it is deli-“

“Hey, Bro.” John was peeking past his dad and smiling up at him.

That was adorable. But, fuck, he looked tired.

Had he really been ill? … Or had it been to do with him?

He didn’t really want to dwell on that.

Mr.Egbert looked down at John. “Son, it might be best if you go back inside. What if you catch something on top of whatever you already have?”

“I’m fine, Dad. Really.”

There was a flicker of something in John’s eyes. He looked away when Mr.Egbert kept his gaze unwaveringly on him for a moment longer. “Can… can Bro come in?” he asked.

There was a pause, then, “As long as Mr. Strider isn’t too busy to do so.”

John smiled a small smile up at him, then looked at Bro. “… You’re not too busy to come in, right?”

“No, I’m not,” he said, watching as Mr.Egbert studied him for a moment longer before heading back inside the house.

“Come on in, then!” John gestured with a slight wave of his hand and Bro followed him into the living room; a blast of sweet and candle-esque smells hitting him on the way in.

This place was… cosy. That was the only truly suitable word for it. A little smaller in size than Bro’s own living room; Egbert's living room kept the heat in better. He would say that he could take off his rad scarf but, he needed all of the warmth he could get.

It was frostier out there than Frosty the snowman stuck in a refrigerator set to glacial.

Mr.Egbert’s gaze was on him throughout the whole ordeal of simply walking and sitting down on the couch. It was as if at any moment he was expecting him to just whip up a storm or something and obliterate the whole house.

“Thanks for the card,” John said with a smile, walking over to sit beside him.

“No problem. It’s from the both of us,” Bro said, leaning back a little against the backrest.

“Would you like a drink?” Mr.Egbert asked, sounding as neutral as his current impassive expression.

“Uh, no. That’s fine, thanks,” Bro said.

He watched as the man nodded and, with a last glance at them both, walked out of the room.

“So, how are you feeling?” John asked.

Bro looked back at John; he was staring intently at him.

“I should be the one asking you that.”

He laughed quietly. “I’m okay.”

“And, I’m… alright too.”

John squinted at him behind his glasses, obviously trying to see past his poker-faced expression. “You’re… not, are you?”

“I’ll talk to you about it later.”

“Alright.”

“Your dad doesn’t look like he wants me hangin’ round here,” Bro said, glancing back again in the direction Mr.Egbert had left.

John made a face and shifted a little in his seat. “He’s… pretty protective of me. When it comes to people I count as my friends, whether they’re from the Net or not, it could go one of two ways with him – he could like them, or he could be a grump with them. Don’t worry though, he should warm up to you eventually.”

“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t know about that.

John shifted a little in his seat. “It’s been… difficult, you know. Dealing with… this sickness.”

Bro glanced his way.

“I just… hope things get better.”

“I hope so too.”

“I’ll come round in the next few days,” John said. “If that’s alright by my dad and… you.”

Bro shrugged. “It’s fine by me.” He had a sneaking suspicion that Mr.Egbert was listening in.

John smiled. “Cool. I’ll let Dave know when.”

Bro nodded, then pushed himself up from his seat. “I should get going. Gotta sort out a few things back at the house.”

“What, like tormenting Dave?” John joked.

Bro smirked. “Possibly.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way over to the door.

It was at that moment that Mr.Egbert pushed open the small, oddly, saloon-like doors that led to the kitchen and walked into the front room. His gaze was on Bro. He nodded once in farewell. “It was nice of you to visit.”

“Seeya later, Bro,” John said, heading over to join him by the front door.

“Seeya, Squirt. Goodbye Mr.Egbert.” Bro gave them both a half-hearted wave, opened the door, and left.

The walk back was filled with an unwanted shit-ton of thoughts (he tried to blank out the sounds and scents from all around, a feat in itself even after all this time of learning how to do it). Mr.Egbert didn’t like him much, that was definitely clear. Whenever he locked eyes with Bro there was like this… tense atmosphere or something that built up between them both. It was as if he was considering Bro to be some kind of hissing, spitting toxic snake that was threatening to end the world in a tidal wave of poisonous liquid.

That rushed around throughout his mind, reinforced by the additional factor that he’d never had the shift take him so quickly like that, or so painfully. And… it frightened him. Never before, had it been so… different, so foreign as to take him over completely in those last few moments and send him running to the woods, his recollections of humanity falling away from him with every heavy paw step of the earth that he took.

It had all blurred. Everything past the events of going into the woods after John had left and slamming against a nearby tree to heave up empty air was just a mish-mash of a fucking dirtied up rainbow.

What if the next time he changed he hurt Dave, or John?

What if he hurt some passerby on the street?

He didn’t even want to think about it.

Shaking his head, he walked up the steps and unlocked the door. Even before he’d opened it, he could hear the din of rap music beating it’s way out from Dave’s room.

He slumped down on the living room's couch. He felt weary, all of a sudden, like the Slumberland fairy had decided to grace him with a fucking touch of fairy-dust. … Maybe it was due to his semi-confrontation with Mr.Egbert, or maybe it was knowing that he could very easily have become a monster in John’s eyes those few days ago.

From upstairs, the music stopped. He could hear Dave’s door opening and the stomp of his feet as he made his way down the stairs.

He didn’t bother looking up, too busy with staring at the floor through the openings of his hands.

“How’d it go?”

“Well,” Bro replied, his voice muffled.

“It doesn’t look like it did.”

“No… It went fine and dandy.” Bro took his hands away from his face and leaned back casually against the backrest. “There was lollipops and flowers, bunnies and rainbows… The whole shebang.”

Dave scoffed and smirked. “Sure, and there was a talking badger too.”

“You got it.”

“… How’s John? He sounded alright through his texts but…” He shrugged.

“Recovering.”

Dave looked to the side, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Right.”

Silence descended between them for a few moments, with Bro staring at nothing in particular and Dave frowning a little in thought.

“Where _do_ you wander off to, Bro? I mean, I wouldn’t be bothered by it if you said something before you leave but, you don’t. You just go, without saying a word. Like, it’s not even ninja-stealth stuff, just… sinking into the depths of the shadows quietly whispering ‘Believe it’ to yourself. It’s like you just simply… disappear off the face of the Earth for a few days. Hell, I still remember that one fucking time where you went gallavanting off for around a fucking _week_ without even a single post-it note left lyin’ around the house, or a quick text my way.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze burning into Bro’s behind his shades. “… It’s like you don’t even care, that you don’t even realize how much I actually…” He shook his head and sharply looked away.

Bro stayed silent. Unable to voice aloud anything at all.

Instead, he stood up and flashstepped upstairs.

“Bro! Get down here! Don’t just fucking run off!”

Dave was charging up the stairs.

… He didn’t have time for this.

He slammed the door shut and locked it. Slumping down on his couch, he ran his hands through his hair, leaning back with a sigh.

He hated this. Hated keeping it a fucking secret from his own little bro. But, he couldn’t tell him. Just… couldn’t.

… But, he’d told John, his mind whispered. He’d told him and he’d just accepted it.

No, that was different. He’d seen him change from beast to human before his eyes. There was no way to write that off.

“Bro,” Dave’s voice echoed through the door, “come on. Just… tell me already. It can’t be that fucking difficult, right? I mean, what? Is it something so fucked up that it’d change my view of you completely? Like, secretly you’re a fucking alien, or something?”

“Yeah, you got it in one,” Bro replied.

“… Fight me. If that’s what it takes. I’ll gladly take up arms. Go all fucking knightly on you. Beat the answer out of you.”

“Not goin’ to happen,” Bro said and turned the TV on, loud.

As he closed his eyes, just focusing on nothing else but the stupid drone of the television, something burst into being in his mind like the immediate effects of an exploding firework.

His eyes snapped open.

Had he thought that John was adorable?

… Shit.


	17. Piesis

“If there was a way to get rid of this, I would do it. I'd climb up to the highest point of the tallest building in New York and back flip off of it in a rad rendition of the Leap of Faith, if that's what it took to find the cure.”

“Pfft, don’t you think that’s going a bit too far?”

Bro shook his head. “Not for this. It’s… just a fuck up, honestly. It’s like thinking that you’re Godzilla when in actuality you’re just a piece of cheese.”

John spewed his drink back into his cup. “What?”

Bro shrugged. “Best way of describing it.”

“Yeah, in your Strider-y way, maybe.”

“Anyway, I’ve had to deal with this goin’ on nearly three years now and it’s not getting any better. In fact, I think it’s gettin’ worse.”

The pair of them were sat down in Bro’s front room, with John trying to drink his coffee and Bro not drinking anything at all.

"It just feels like... it's completely random, you know?" Bro huffed a quiet sigh and stared down at the floor. "All of this changing back and forth. It feels like it's never gonna settle down."

"You know, that change that you underwent... That wasn't normal, was it?" John leaned back a little in his seat, his eyes on Bro.

"It wasn't. That's the thing. All of that shit that'd happened... It was one of the worst experiences that I've ever undergone. It was as if... some bastard had just slipped right inside my brain and fucked around with the insides. Chopped away at portions of it and altered the rest, then sat back to watch as I snarled and spat, already halfway through transforming into something with no sense of morals. No sense of nothing but the knowledge of how to survive."

An image of those twin suns that'd glared out from behind Bro's shades went whispering past John's vision. He stared down at his drink.

"What I said before" - Bro continued in a quiet voice - "about it getting worse... It's true. It is."

"It... is?"

"I can't - I couldn't control myself. It felt like, at any moment, I would've whipped around and tried to rip your throat out."

At John's expression, Bro looked away.

"I'm pretty sure that in the state I was in back then, I would've done it, too."

"But, you'd had enough sense of control to tell me not to get closer!" John told him, a hint of panic swelling in his chest.

"Yeah, right. It was whatever ounce of control I'd had left at the time, and that was it. I have this feeling that, eventually, I won't be able to even do that. The instant a feral thought pops into my head, I'd enact it. Just... try to rip your eyes out or something. I don't know." He shook his head, his grip tightening on the arm rest.

"Eventually... I won't even be myself anymore."

John bit his bottom lip, his anxiety rushing up to contract his chest tightly. Then, a thought struck him. "I'll... I'll look for a cure."

"What?" Bro swiftly turned to fix his veiled gaze upon John.

John attempted an unsuccessful smile, his stomach twisting in knots. "I said, I'll look for a cure. If... if that's what it takes."

Bro shook his head. "No."

"It's like what you said before, Bro. You'd do anything to find a way out of this and if it's really getting worse the only logical thing to do is find a way to cure it."

"Right, and how do you think that you'd even go about doing something like that?" Bro said, folding his arms.

John shook his head. "I don't know. But, I'll keep a lookout. You know, start searching around for information or something. You never know, I might be able to dig up something from some of those old werewolf tales. The Net can be a pretty fantastic place when it comes to information."

Bro snorted. "I doubt it. All that shit that they've been blabbing about werewolves is just that: shit. This is real and they're just tales."

"Well, we'll never know until we've tried it." John shrugged. "Besides, I thought that werewolves were just tales until I met you."

"I guess... Just don't start texting me loads of bullcrap unless you think you've actually got something, got it? And don't go rushing off and do something stupid."

"You sound like my dad," John said with a small scoff. "I won't get in any trouble. I'll be fine."

"Mhm, whatever you say kid."

Finished with his drink, John set the cup on the table. "Where's Dave anyway?"

"Out."

"Oh." John frowned. "Did... you two have an argument or something?"

"No, what would make you think that?"

"It's just... the way that you looked then. Like, your mouth twitched downwards for a moment. And you can't say that you don't do stuff like that. You're not that poker-faced."

Bro rubbed the back of his neck and settled back down in his chair with a sigh. "... Yeah, there was a fight. Mostly from his end. It was just... stuff, you know, to do with my whole changing and disappearing act."

"Oh, right." John looked away for a moment, thinking. "Why don't you... tell him? I mean, knowing him, he'd freak out a bit but, I'm sure that he'd come round eventually."

"Because he wouldn't listen. That's why. He'd think it'd just be me being ironic, or something. Or, he'd just pass it off as a joke. He's not good with shit like this."

"Then try to lay it on him in some kind of subtle way then, see if he gets it."

"That won't work either. Dave's not the type to get subtle things."

It was at that moment that John's phone vibrated. He fumbled with it, trying to remove it from his pocket, then looked at the screen.

**We'll be returning back to the old tutoring sessions next week.  
Be ready for them.**

**\- Dad**

"What is it?" Bro asked, his eyes on John's face.

"It's a text from Dad. He's saying that he'll be tutoring me next week." He huffed a dramatic sigh and flopped back against the backrest. He turned his head to look at Bro. "I don't know when each of those dumb sessions will end so my time spent around here might be cut short."

"Right. You can always contact me and Dave through Pesterchum or texts anyway, so it's not like you'll be lacking in Strider inspiration."

John snorted in amusement. "Yeah, I guess not." He shifted in his seat, then stood up. "I better get going, Dad's probably wanting me to head back. I'll probably start researching all about different kinds of werewolf cures when I get home, heh."

"Yeah, alright. ... Take care of yourself, kid." Getting to his feet, he hesitated a moment then, he reached out and patted John once on his shoulder.

John looked up at him for a few seconds, and then rushed forward and gave him a hug. "I'll be fine. Seeya later, Bro."

Surprised, all Bro could do was return the hug.

Stepping back, John smiled up at him, then headed over to the door. As it closed shut behind him, Bro sighed and flopped back down in his chair. That kid... Would he even be able to find anything? He didn't want him snooping around and getting into any more trouble than he'd already been in. Finding answers to something that shouldn't even exist can draw the wrong kind of attention, and not just from the likes of Noir.

Talking of Noir... Looked like word hadn't got to him yet about John's unsuccessful murder. Either that, or he was too busy trying to sniff out the remains of the Brute, if he'd even realized that he was dead. He snorted. Good riddance to that fucker. He'd thought that, just because of the fact that he was a bear of a guy that he could go throwing his weight around. If it hadn't been due to the fact that he'd followed that motherfucker Noir around like a little lost puppy, following everything that the grumpy fuck had said, then he'd probably already have bitten half of the residents here in Washington.

Making themselves scarce from Texas hadn't changed any of them in the slightest. He doubted that it wouldn't take much longer for one of them to lose it as a wolf and savage someone to death, or near to it.

Although, thinking of that, was he any better? He swept a hand over his face.

No, he wasn't. When he was a wolf, he was just the same as them.

His phone bleeped, snapping him out of his thoughts. He brought it out.

heyyyy drik

*dirk

me and rosey will be comin to pay you a visit soon

hope u like pie

cuz rosey made some

its blaskberry

*blackberty

eh close enough

 

A bit short-notice, Rox.

I'm busy having a miniature crisis over here.

 

welp we can join in that crisis and turn it into a piesis instead

 

Piesis?

Holy shit, how much have you had to drink?

 

not enough appasenply

well be comin round in about two weeksih

*weeksfish

yeah

look forward to it dirky

 

Great, yeah.

I'll be effervescently looking forward to it.

 

Running a hand over his face, he groaned.

Why had she decided to come down now, of all times?

...This would not end well.

It was already enough of a mess as it was.

Who knew what more of a mess it could become with Rox coming to visit. Although, she wasn't altogether bad company, even when she was pissed out of her mind.

It was her girl that he was more concerned about.

He had the strangest feeling that she knew something about what he was...

And that made yet another complication in the whole scheme of things.

He didn't think that this sense of quiet and calm would last forever.

Noir was bound to turn up at some point or another, or even worse, enact some other fucking scheme to get John out of the picture.

He wasn't the type to give up and get lost.

* * *

 

John had a tingling sensation in his stomach. It refused to go away even as he lurched into motion, his mind entangling around thoughts of Dad's upcoming tutoring sessions and his "search for the cure" declaration. But, it was tainted by Bro's reaction to the hug, and the hug itself. Beyond that one time when Bro had been a wolf, he'd never really hugged the true and utterly human Bro himself.

He didn't really get why he felt this way. Why the image and the sensation of the hug was embedded so quickly and fondly into his brain. Maybe it was just due to the fact that he'd never shown that kind of friendly affection to Bro before?

He'd had bro-hugs with Dave enough times over and he'd never really lingered on thoughts of them so much. So, what was really so different about this one, first-time hugs aside?

He'd ended up pausing in the middle of the street. His head tilted a little bit to the left in thought. He hadn't even noticed he'd stopped until his vision caught up with his senses.

Shaking his head, he struggled to keep his mind focused on other things all the way back home.

Unlocking the door, he slipped on through and closed it after him.

... Dad's car was gone, so he must be out shopping again. Well, now at least there wouldn't be any chance of him rattling off one-hundred questions as to where he'd been and what he'd been doing like a weirdly clingy host off of some kind of even stranger game show. Though, it now left John in the predicament of actually having to send Dad a reply.

Hanging up his coat, he took off his shoes and shoved them in the shoe rack near the door, then took out his phone, tapping away at the keys as he made his way upstairs.

Seeing as Dad wasn't here, he'd check out a few werewolf tales and see if he could stumble across anything that was at all useful. He pressed send, then set his phone down close to the monitor of his computer. He pulled up his chair and turned the tower on.

While he was waiting for it to load, he leaned back, staring at nowhere in particular. Next week was going to be boring as hell. Even if he managed to fit some time in to talk with Dave or Bro over Pesterchum or send them messages via his phone.

Dad never let him off easy when it came to tutoring sessions. He always tried to bring whatever subject he was currently talking about home. Embed it into John's mind as best he could, then ask him a bajillion questions about it later.

Soon, John was leaning forward over his desk, scouring through mountains of links, trying to find anything that might lead to a step forward in helping to find a cure for Bro. ... Not that there was much to go on. There was a load of shit, as Bro had said, and there was only so much that stood out. He had had the sense to write some interesting points down but, it wasn't enough to contact Bro about.

... Maybe he'd been a little hasty. Maybe he should have thought before he'd said that he alone would try to find the cure.

What did he know about this kind of stuff? These changes that took place in a human that changed them in mind and body into that of a wolf?

He knew nothing about it.

He heaved a sigh and dropped his head onto his folded arms, staring at the glare of the computer screen. How could he even start going about this? All of the notes he'd taken so far didn't account for much, or anything, at all.

Could it be that he was going about this the wrong way? That what he needed to do wasn't to scour the Internet for werewolf literature or myths but, to scour the Internet for things pertaining to illnesses instead?

Things to do with the brain or change in temperatures, maybe?

With a quiet, thoughtful noise, he straightened, typing in "changes in temperature illness", instead.

Then, began his search for a cure anew.


	18. An Alien House

EB: i'll be free to come round today.

TT: Yeah, well, you can, though you'll be in for one hell of a surprise.

EB: why?

TT: I'm cleaning up the house.

EB: whoa, really? that's something that i thought i'd never hear you say!

TT: Well, I didn't technically say it. Just typed it out to send to you.

EB: pfft, whatever. that is so weird though.

EB: it'll be like coming in to an alien house, or something.

TT: Sure, whatever you say.

EB: is it alright for me to come round?

TT: Yeah, I didn't say no, did I?

TT: Just make sure you don't cause a mess.

EB: oh! hehe, i won't.

TT: What's with the chuckle? You thinking of deliberately causing a mess in the house?

EB: noooooooo.

TT: Because I won't let you come round if you do. I'll boot you back out onto the streets, throwing your knapsack out along with you.

EB: of course i won't! it was only a joke.

EB: when is it safe for me to come round?

TT: Within a few hours after I've blown everything up. There'll just be a pile of ash where everything used to be, the melted faces of puppets poking through the dark powder, turning to stare at you as you walk into the house.

EB: pfft, you can't scare me with that crap! maybe dave but not me.

EB: i'll be around about four then?

TT: That's fine.

EB: okay. seeya then!

TT: Later Derphead.

EB: hey!

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John leaned back in his chair, frowning at the screen. Derphead, really? First Dave calling him a derp and now Bro. ... Well, they could be calling him worse, he guessed.

He stretched and pushed his chair away from his desk. He was just glad that he had free time now to do what he liked. Last week had been a week of boredom and subjects. Subjects that went mostly through one ear and out of the other. Besides chemistry, which had been pretty cool.

Dad had actually made it seem pretty damn interesting, what with all of the beakers and substances, and what they did and whatnot.

Dad had told him that he wasn't ever to handle any of this stuff alone. That he might end up causing an explosion or something. Maybe hurt himself, get burned or whatever.

... He was old enough to do what he liked.

He wouldn't go out of his way to fuck around with stuff when he wasn't altogether too sure about what they did. He wasn't stupid.

Though, it was kind of tempting.

He scowled and shook his head. No, he wouldn't go down that route.

Besides, there were other things that were playing on his mind. Such as: Why was Bro cleaning up the house? Was he expecting a guest? An important one?

Bro had never really been one for tidying. He'd seen that. Sure, he kept his house relatively clean. The floor and sink departments especially; the floor wasn't dirty and the washing/drying up was usually more or less done, at least. But, he often left everything else a mess. What with the carpet of puppets that trailed the stairs and the landing. Plus, the occasional forgotten shirt that was left lying around.

What could be so important that had Bro cleaning all of that mess up? He hummed quietly to himself in thought.

Well, he could always ask him when he called around. Bro was nowhere near as evasive when it came to daily subjects compared to when he was talking about wolf-related stuff. ... Er, usually. He could still be an ass about a lot of stuff, actually. Mostly because he thought it was funny to see John's reaction, or so it seemed to John.

He rubbed his arm, then got to his feet. He'd better go get ready.

He headed downstairs and pulled his coat down from its coat hanger, then pulled his shoes from off of the rack.

Dad had always been firm about getting ready before leaving the house. He'd instilled it into John even before he'd ever been allowed to leave the house by himself. They had always been prepared for their outside trips a half hour in advance. Though, this time, John was getting ready an hour's time in advance. Mostly due to the fact that he felt restless. He had to do something in order to keep himself busy but, it was also due to the fact that the questions he now sought over Bro's sudden act of cleaning up the place were fresh in his mind - they bounced around the inside of his skull and it made it difficult to concentrate.

So, by the time he'd even realized it, he was already in his coat and leaning down to put on his shoes. Parking his butt on the floor, he put them on, then remained where he was, dragged back into his thoughts once again.

Throughout everything that had happened, he'd mentally blocked out all of his worries about Jack and his gang. He'd just stored them away in a box in the back of his mind but, now that he was sat here, in the peace and quiet. The atmosphere had urged that box to burst open.

What was Jack up to now? Would he ever try to send someone to hurt him, or try to kill him again? It made his stomach clench and twist just thinking about it.

He hoped that the guy had given up. That he wouldn't disturb him again.

After all, what had he ever done wrong?

"Son? What are you up to?"

He jumped violently, then scrambled to his feet, clearing his throat quietly.

"I was just... thinking. Yup, thinking."

"About?" Dad's expression was one of amusement, his lips set in a slight smile. He stepped down onto the ground floor, sorting out his tie.

He had his business suit on. Oh, was he off to work? He didn't think that he had to go in today.

"Just a few things." John shrugged. "Are you... off to work? I thought that you didn't have to go in today?"

"Someone's called off sick, so I'm covering for them."

"Oh, right. Uh, I'll be heading round to Dave's in a little while."

"I see. Well, just be careful on your way down there."

"I will."

Dad nodded. Then, went off into the living room. "Would you like a drink?" he called.

"Uh, no thanks, Dad. I'm okay."

"I'll be back early in the morning tomorrow."

"Alright."

Sometimes, it felt as if Dad cared more about his job than him.

* * *

 "You really meant it when you said that you'd be cleaning up the place. It's as if I've stepped inside the wrong house."

Which was true. The house truly looked like someone else's. Everything was so clean and tidy, and there was no sign of Bro's puppets anywhere.

If Dad was to ever find out about the puppets, would he let John call around here again? He doubted it. Though, luckily, his dad wasn't too nosy when it came to John's own business. He'd asked a few questions about Bro and Dave but, never really bothered to go any further than that.

"Got some guests comin' round," Bro said, making his way into the living room.

"I thought as much. What kind of guests?" John asked following him in.

"The human kind. Don't get much in ways of alien visitors these days."

John snorted in amusement, then shook his head. "No, you know what I mean. Who are they?"

"Friends. Well, one of 'em is. The other's her daughter."

"Huh?"

"I have a friend called Roxanne coming around and she's bringing her daughter."

"Oh." John plonked himself down on the couch. ... Bro really had cleaned up. There wasn't a single puppet in sight.

"Says she'll be bringing a pie, or something," Bro said, sitting down beside him.

"Sounds... nice? Are they anything like you or Dave? You know, poker-faced, ironic, shade-wearers?"

"Nothin' of the sort. Roxy's a bit of a drinker and a loud talker. Bit of a gossip too. Her daughter's quieter, but kind of... difficult to talk to."

"Difficult? Difficult how?"

"She's, perceptive and snarky. ... A little too perceptive."

John caught that slight furrow to his brow, even after it had been wiped clean and Bro was once again showing his familiar impassive expression, the image of it remained with him. "What's wrong?"

Bro exhaled out a quiet sigh and leaned back. "That perceptiveness of hers is what's wrong. She's visited us a few times and, I think she might know something about what I am. Even before Roxy and Rose visited me and it had all just been talk on the phone, or texts over Pesterchum, I had this feelin'. Rose once hijacked Rox's account to talk to me. Some of the things that she was askin' about... Well, they weren't what you'd get asked every day, let's put it that way."

"So, you think that she, she knows about you? What you are?"

Shrugging his shoulders in a half-assed way, Bro turned to look at the TV screen. "Kinda', maybe... I'm not sure. It's just this kind of feeling I get. It could be nothing but, who knows?"

"But, if what your feeling turns out to be right, then what are you going to do? Do you think something might happen to her...? Or that she'd tell someone about what you are?" The thought of that, or of the latter happening caused John's chest to twinge uncomfortably in panic and worry.

Bro shook his head. "No, she'd be packing her bags and headin' back home before Noir even realizes. It'd be too late for him to try and attack her then. Besides, she seems like the cagey type."

"... Right. She _seems_ like the cagey type? What if she isn't? What if she's a gossip or something, like her mom?"

Bro shrugged. "Calm your shit. No one would believe her anyway."

"Then, why are so worried about it?"

He shifted, turning to look away from John.

"I thought so. You're actually worried that she might do something and that someone that does believe in that kind of stuff will take it to the press, or something, right?"

Bro rubbed the nape of his neck but didn't respond. It didn't matter, his reaction told John everything he needed to know.

"... Turnin' the conversation away from that a little. Careful how loudly you talk when we're not the only ones in the house."

"Huh?" John blinked. "... Oh! You mean Dave? Right, I'll keep it to a minimum. Is he upstairs?"

"Yeah, he's sulkin' because I asked him to tidy away the shit that had been left like the remnants of a fiery explosion all over his bedroom floor."

John got to his feet. "I'm gonna' go talk to him."

"Yeah, go for it. I'm just going to chill down here."

John left the room and stomped loudly up the stairs. "Daaaaave! Get your butt over to your bedroom door and open it! Stop hiding behind it and sulking like a baby."

He heard the door click open and Dave stepped out onto the landing, his hands in his pockets. "Yo, John. Decided to pay a visit to this shithole after its transformation from a pit to a pretty palace - why would you even do that? This house now smells of flowers and the fresh outdoors; it's fuckin' weird."

"It's better than having to put up with your Strider stench," John retorted. "It looks way better now than it did before."

"Pfft, secretly you think that I smell manly and attractive. You can't hide it behind your fake words."

"Whatever, man. Come on, I want to see what your room looks like."

Dave sighed quietly and moved aside with a small flair of his right hand. "Enjoy studiously examining my small little hovel, your majesty. I hope you enjoy all that it has to offer."

John huffed a little in amusement, smiling. Though, as he looked around the room, his smile became more mischievous. "It looks so beautiful, Dave. Just what I'd imagine a princess like you to live in."

Dave punched him lightly in the shoulder as he passed, the slightest smirk on his lips. "Says you. You'd suit a princess more. You're way more feminine than me, and listen to that high-pitched voice." He tutted, shaking his head slowly, his smirk now a little more obvious. "I won't be at all surprised to find you comin' round to visit me in a fuckin' pretty pink dress."

"No, pretty pink dresses are your thing, Dave. Not mine."

"Yeah, you're right. You'd look better in a blue tutu and headband."

He walked over and sat down on his bed, as clean and neatly tucked away as the rest of his room.

John followed him, sitting down beside him on the mattress. He turned to examine the shocking state of cleanliness all about him. "So, how well do you know these friend's of Bro's coming to visit?"

Dave shrugged. "A fair amount. I mostly talk to Rose, though it's more like the other way around, come to that - she usually is the one to come over and talk to me. She gets on my nerves with the whole smug 'I know more than you do' thing. You can't keep anything from her. It's actually a true fact, you seriously can't. It's as if she knows all about your deepest secrets before you even really know about them yourself. You can see it written in her eyes, that she knows somethin' you don't, and she'll just spurt out enigmatic bullcrap when you ask her about it."

John raised an eyebrow. "... Sounds, different."

"Pfft, yeah, right. I don't know how she does it, though. What? Does she have some kind of all-seeing eye or something that's secretly oozing all of the information it collects right down into her brain?"

"That's some fucking weird imagery there, Dave."

"Yeah, but it fits. I can see her having some kinda shit like that. Somethin' that can't be seen by ordinary individuals, such as myself. I'd have to buy some multi-dimensional shades or something in preparation for when she comes. Just shove 'em on in place of these ones and act all casual-like until the last moment when I see that all-seeing eye fucking staring out at me from the middle of her forehead and then, I just poke it with a stick or something. Gum up her informative, mystical process and make her act like one of us."

"You keep dreaming about that day, Dave. But... talking about all of this, have they visited you guys often?"

Dave shrugged. "I think this would be the fourth time that she and her mom have visited or something. I've never been totally ecstatic about them payin' a visit, though. I mean, I have to throw away the little piece of heaven I've been building up here in my very room and twist it into something that looks like it was shit out of Satan's ass instead."

"I dunno, it looks pretty neat now to me. Better than it was before. I could say that it's almost on par with my room now, almost."

John kicked out his legs and looked at Dave. "... How's things between you and Bro?"

Dave turned away, rubbing at the back of his neck. "... Fine. Absolutely fantastic."

"Right," John said, raising an eyebrow. "It sure seems that way to me."

"Mm. Anyway, what about you and your dad? How are things between you and him?"

"Pfft, don't pin things back on me. Things are fine between me and him! Always are..." _Although he seems to be spending more time at work lately,_ John thought with a small frown. _Outside of all of the dumb home-schooled classes, Dad's lately been way too busy being a_ businessman _to spend any quality time with me._ But, he guessed that it was good in some ways? It meant that he could do what he wanted without Dad worrying about him twenty-four-seven.

"Sure. ... You want to watch somethin'?"

"Uh, yeah! Sure!"

Dave stood up and went over to his shelf, taking a few DVD boxes from it.

"Cool. I got some new films a few days ago. Let's watch one of them." He spread out the group of films in a line beside John on the mattress. "I'll let you pick out one of 'em."

"Okay! Let's watch, this one."

Dave nodded and swept it up. "Alright, keep tight hold of your girly panties and try not to piss yourself - this one's horrifically terrifying."

"You dick! You could've told me that before!" John folded his arms, scowling at Dave.

"Where'd the fun be in that?" Dave smirked.

"... Let's just watch the dumb movie."

"Yeah, let's."

* * *

 

John hated Dave for that, for what he'd just put him through. He was a cruel, cruel person. Every time he'd shrieked over something, Dave had laughed at him.

There'd even been one awkward part where John had scrambled to hug Dave, then promptly fell off of the bed in the process.

Next time (if there even _was_ going to be a next time) he'd actually _read_ what the film's about before he chooses it. Next time, he'd be the one to buy a bunch of films and have Dave pick one out.

... Would he go so far as to just buy loads of Muppet movies and ask Dave to pick one of those out?

... Maybe.

He made his way down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

"Bro, do you mind if I get something to eat here?" he called.

Bro walked in and leaned against the door's frame. "Yeah, I do. We don't even have any food anyway. So why are you even bothering to ask?" There was a flash of a smirk that played on his features for a moment, and John shook his head, feeling a bubble of laughter rising up in his throat.

"Fine, I'll just head back home then. Back to a house filled with cake and other horrible baked goods."

Bro snorted. "Yeah, you do that."

A thought flitted through John's mind quickly. "... When are Rose and Roxy coming around?"

"In the next few days. Why you ask?"

John shrugged and rocked back on his balls of his feet for a moment. "No reason. I was just wondering."

"... Right. There's some pizza in the top shelf of the fridge, if you want that." He gestured to the refrigerator.

"Uh, thanks."

"Just heat it up and, don't make a mess, ya hear?"

John smiled. "Yeah, I hear you."

"Good. Now, I've got some other cleaning duties to attend to." With that, Bro slipped back out, leaving John to his own thoughts and devices.

As he went over to the fridge and opened it, something occurred to him: If this Rose girl did know about Bro's problem, did she also know other things about it? Was it possible that she held hidden knowledge about the werewolves?

About the possible chance of a cure?

The thought of it made John freeze in place, his mind reeling through a dozen thoughts at once.

He'd only gotten so far with finding any kind of hints towards the cure. He'd just hunted the Internet over and over for anything that would help, or anything related in any way to Bro's condition. ... At this point in time, he still hadn't found anything concrete.

If Rose did know something, would she give it out freely?

He took out the plated slice of pizza and closed the fridge door.

There was only one way to find out.


	19. Belief

"John, this is Rose," Dave said gesturing to the blonde-haired girl beside him.

She flashed John a smile. "Hello, John. It is nice to finally meet you."

John awkwardly smiled back. "Hey. It's nice to meet you too." He wasn't nervous, nope, not at all! Definitely not. ... He hadn't been this nervous around Bro and Dave when he first met them, even if their meetings had been under entirely different circumstances, so why was he nervous now? "Wait, what do you mean by 'finally'?"

"Dave told me a fair bit about you," she said, glancing in Dave's direction.

He looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Uh, a bit, I guess."

Rose quirked an eyebrow.

"Um, anyway. Your mom seems cool," John said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that was threatening to snake its way through the room.

"She's... tolerable, when she's not drunk, that is. Although, that's a rarity. Mostly, she's a little too chatty and cleanly, for my tastes."

"Oh, uh, that sounds kinda' shitty, I guess?"

She gave a graceful shrug. "Oh, I put up with it." She sat down after that, resting her hands on her lap. "So, John, how are you finding the Striders?"

Dave shifted and gave John a veiled look.

John grinned mischievously. "They're dorks."

Rose smiled. "I agree."

There was a sigh and John caught Dave rolling his eyes beneath his shades. He snorted and shoved him gently. "You know it's true. You and Bro are like the dorkiest of dorks."

"Same as you, McDorkenson. You're the fuckin' queen of the dorks."

"We can rule McDorken Kingdom together," John said, sniggering. Then he sat down beside Rose. He was soon followed by the 'dorkiest of dorks', who sat down opposite him, rubbing at his temple.

"So, while we wait for my mother and your brother to catch up on things, what do you say you entertain your guests, David." Rose cast him a glance, an amused glimmer in her violet eyes.

"What? Oh, put on a film or somethin'. Yeah, sure." Dave shrugged, and then stood up to rifle through the DVD collection. "Anythin' in particular you want to watch?"

"Anything that isn't all action, all explosions, is fine."

Dave looked back at her. "All great movies are made up of explosive action sequences."

"Not the ones I've ever watched."

"Pfft, whatever. I'll just put on The Sixth Sense, then. Kept that one from the last time you came around wantin' to see it."

John leaned forwards and squinted his eyes trying to have a good look at the cover. "The Sixth Sense? Isn't that, like really sad, or something?"

"Dude, you haven't seen this one?" Dave shot a look over at Rose. "Yeah, Rose, we're watchin' this. Right now."

"I'm fine with that. It's always interesting to watch. It will give me a chance to take some new notes on the choices of symbolism within it, after all."

"Whoa, wait, it has symbolism in it?" John asked, looking at Rose.

"Yes, but, then a lot of movies do. It's just a case of looking for them."

"Okay, enough symbolism talk. Let's just watch the film," Dave said, launching himself back on the couch.

Rose pulled her bag on her lap and pulled out a notepad and a pen. "Watch and make observations, don't you mean?"

* * *

 "How are things with you?" Bro said, dropping down on the kitchen chair.

"Eh, I'm alright," Roxy said, leaning back against the counter. "Rose is getting to that age where she prefers to be left alone. Though, she's always been a little grump when it comes to me being, 'motherly' as she puts it. She's got a big personal space bauble - bubble - I tell ya that."

"Yeah, well, they all get to that age where'd they'd much prefer doin' shit themselves over you doin' it all for them. It just happens as they get older."

"Yeah, I guess. But anyways, how's it with you?"

Bro shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Same old, really."

"I noticed you're getting along with the neighbours some, now."

"Kinda', John's a friend of Dave's, so."

"Mm," Roxy said, taking a sip from her wine glass. "It's weird, seeing them grow up so quick, ya know? The kids just... Well, they used to be these little screechy babies and now they're grumpy teens... It's really something."

"You get used to it."

"Not really."

Bro ran a hand through his hair and stared down at his drink.

He heard the clink of glass against the counter as Roxy put her own drink down. "Rose has been talking some crap about you, ya know?"

Keeping his expression neutral, Bro glanced over at her. "Yeah? Like what?"

"I dunno, she's a cagey little shit with me a lot of the time, but, she keeps dropping hints about something or another. Saying that there's more to you than you let on, or somethin'. Whatever the heck she means, I have no idea. Unless it's to do with your job, but, we all know about that, anyways."

Bro grunted in response.

"So, you're not secretly Batman or something, right?" She nudged him heavily in the side with a cackle.

"Well, I wouldn't tell you if I was, would I? It'd give the whole game away, then."

"You're rich enough to be the new Bruce Wayne anyways," she snorted.

"What can I say? I work hard."

"Yeah, makin' all of those sexy puppets and the likes; You weirdo."

"And you're not? With all those wizards and shit around your house, along with the whole aggressive cleaning stuff you do."

Roxy gave a half-shrug. "Gotta' keep my house clean. 'Sides, the wizards give it a magical vibe, and they're only quarter for my benefit. Rose is like, secretly a wizard nut. Has all this silly little writing stuff she scribbles down when she thinks I'm not lookin' and the likes. She used to want me to buy loads a little wizard figurines to put in her room when she was younger."

"Yeah, well, you don't know for sure if she's still into this whole wizard stuff. She might not be."

Roxy huffed and picked her glass back up, taking another sip of wine. "Pretty sure she's still a wizard nut."

"Yeah, you believe what you want to believe."


	20. Discussions

 "I wish to speak with John in private," Rose said, with a glance from Dave to John.

"Huh?" Dave looked up. "Uh, sure, whatever. I'll just... sit here and steal all of the rest of this popcorn for myself."

"I won't be long," Rose replied, getting to her feet and moving past John with a gesture for him to follow.

Awkwardly, John stood up, shooting a look over at Dave who shrugged. In the background, the television blared, echoing down the corridor as John followed Rose along it. He'd managed to settle down not too long ago, kind of finding comfort in just chilling with Dave and Rose, watching shit on the T.V. but now... his stomach was tying itself in knots.

What did she want to talk about? And why did she want to talk to him about whatever it was in private?

This was good though, right? He'd needed to talk with Rose anyway. He needed to find out if she knew about all of this, about the werewolves. Maybe she knew whether there was a cure? But, at the same time... Rose had been the one to say that she wanted to talk with him, and not the other way round.

Shit, what if she knew about everything and was going to tell him that she was going to tell everyone? But, that wouldn't work, would it? Nobody would believe it if she told them. Although, maybe someone would? And why would she tell him that she was going to tell everyone about it all anyway? Oh man, his mind was running around in circles. He wasn't getting anywhere with this.

"I'm sorry to haul you away like this without a fair amount of warning," Rose said, pulling him from his thoughts. She had come to a stop in the middle of the corridor, the television's noise a mere murmur now behind them. 

"Uh? Oh no, it's fine, really."  
  
She nodded, then leaned back against the wall with a quiet sigh. "I - wish to discuss a few matters with you and thought it best not to discuss them in front of Dave."

"What kinds of things?"

"Of matters pertaining to... the Striders."

John took a sharp intake of breath, then tried to turn it into a cough. He was calm, really calm. He was totally calm. If she was about to discuss what he thought she was about to discuss then it would be alright. This was exactly what he wanted to talk to her about, right? Well, kind of, mostly he wanted to talk to her about some form of cure. Any kind of cure that would help Bro, but, yeah, this was fine. He was fine.

"What kind of Strider-related matters?" he asked, trying to make it sound casual, but it kind of came out a bit too nervous for his liking.

"Just... the kind relating to the absence of Bro throughout specific times, I gleaned a lot in relation to that from Dave." She was regarding John now, her expression carefully neutral.

"Oh, well, you're best asking Dave more on that subject. He's his brother, after all."

"Yes, he has already expressed his worries to me and the extent of his brother's absences, albeit in a Strider-esque way. But, I wish to know of these series of disappearance acts from your perspective." She folded her arms across her chest, eyeing John. "You are counted as a friend to Bro, or so Dave tells me."

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," John said. His heart was definitely hammering away in his chest. He had a bad feeling that Rose knew, but she was just not saying anything about it, not yet. Why? And why was he worrying. She seemed cool. She'd be cool with it all, right? "He just... disappears off sometimes, and goes places, I think. Clears his head or goes to a secret job, or something, I don't know."  
  
"But, you do know, really, don't you?"

He could feel her violet eyes burning into him. He knew she knew, which sounded weird in his head, but, there it was. He couldn't just ignore it. He couldn't stay silent when she knew. So, he composed himself, looked her right in the eyes and said, "Do you?"

Her lips twitched upwards in a slight smile. "That Bro is something that most people wouldn't believe could possibly be real? Yes, I do. 

And there was that flood of relief. She knew! And she wasn't saying anything bad about it! But... "Why ask me if you knew already?" He frowned.

She shifted, seeming more relaxed now. And it was only now that John realized she'd been holding herself stiffly up until this moment. "Because I just wanted to confirm what I already had an inkling of: that you knew yourself," she replied.

"How did you find out?" John asked curiously, walking over to stand beside her.

She shrugged. "When Dave told me about Bro's odd disappearance acts, I grew suspicious. The rest, I worked out for myself."

"How?"

"There have been... a multitude of curious incidences over these past few years. Not secured, of course, to this particular area, but to that of Texas. Houston, in particular. There were mentions, rumours, of dog attacks. These attacks were... strange. The victims of said attacks always insisted that the dogs that they had seen were far from normal. There had been searches around the city, hunts for these strange dogs and yet, they were never discovered." She tapped her fingers against her arms, her gaze directed to the wall opposite, a slight furrow to her brow. "The victims of these dog attacks ended up confined within their houses, struck ill a week after the incidences." She turned to fix her sharp eyes back on John. "Many of them disappeared, never to be heard from again."

Something twisted sharply in John's chest, the images of dogs that were anything but dogs stalking the edges of his consciousness. Deuce's bared teeth clacked against thin air - he was there again, facing down against him, watching outside of his own body as he pulled out the hammer and brought it slamming down against the side of the werewolf's head.

He pulled away from the past, forcing himself back into the present. He unclenched his fists and shoved his hands into his pockets. He could feel Rose's neutral gaze upon him, she was watching his motions carefully. She said nothing about his reaction and he didn't want to explain why he'd gone completely silent just then.

Instead, he tried to steer the conversation back along a different route.

"Right," he said, trying to calm his nerves. "You definitely know your stuff about it, then. So, uh... besides the fact that you wanted to confirm your suspicions, was there anything else you wanted to privately talk to me about?"

"I wanted to warn you, John."

"Huh? Warn me about what?" The flicker of Deuce's bared visage flashed across his vision.

Rose shot John a pointed look. "What Bro is, his kind... They are dangerous."

"Don't you think I know that already? I'm prepared for whatever can be thrown my way."

She shook her head. "Not if Bro turns and bites you one day. From what I have familiarised myself with in this topic: once you're bitten you would have a high chance of dying from fever, and, even if you were to survive it, you'd become the same as him. Would you want that?"

John felt dread tighten around him. He fought against it. "No, but, Rose, I swear I can look out for myself," he told her."I know enough about this and have seen enough to know when to back out."

She studied him a moment. "If you believe so, fine. I won't warn you again about it, but, please do be careful."

John smiled a small smile. "I will. But, well... There's something that I want to ask, seeing as you seem to know quite a bit about Bro's kind and all..."

"Hm? What is it?"

"Do you know if - there's a cure?"


	21. The Cure

Her brow creased slightly. "A cure? Yes, I believe there is."

"Really?" John gasped, leaning closer to her. His heart was hammering away in his chest.

"Yes," she said. "Although, it isn't of a nature that I am certain you're expecting. There are no manner of magic potions involved nor liquid of any particular kind. The cure, from what I have garnered, is presented in a different method entirely."

"Then, what is this method?"

Rose studied John carefully, her expression closed off and yet, in her eyes, John could actually _read_ how deeply she was contemplating how best to step with her next words. "Keep it in mind, John, that this is only an educated guess. Yes, I have regarded many an event that has taken place centred around these werewolves but, I am still limited in my knowledge of them. There is still much I have yet to gather in terms of data about them."

"If there's a chance that it will work, then it doesn't matter. I want to know what _you_ think could be the cure for this."

"... I believe that the cure can be found, strangely enough, within the same action that caused this disease in the first place: in the werewolf's bite." 

"In the werewolf's bite..." John frowned in thought. 

"From what I know of them, there is a venom that is carried within the jaws of the werewolf. This venom causes a reaction in its victims which leaves them feverish and ill - it remains with them throughout the rest of their infected lives, cycling through the bloodstream without end as the toxins continue to continuously affect them. This same venom reputedly can be drawn out from the bloodstream if a werewolf was to again bite an infected victim, as long as that infected victim was in human form. The aftermath, however, may cause a few problems in the process."

"Such as what?"

Rose shifted even as her gaze remained locked on John's own. "Of that, I'm uncertain. It would affect everyone differently."

John bit his lip and looked away. "Right. Uh, thanks, for telling me about this."

"Well, you asked me if there was a cure and, under the circumstances, I couldn't simply ignore the query. Starkly acting as if supernatural phenomenons aren't happening right under our very noses." Her lips quirked up in a small smile.

John flashed her a smile. "Yeah, I think pretty much everyone else would turn their back on this stuff by this point. Like, they'd be saying: 'Werewolves? Huh? Nope! I don't know what you're talking about'." He giggled, then shook his head with a sigh. "Think we should return to see how Mr.Grumpy Ass is doing?"

"We should. After all, by this point he may have decided, we're a lost cause and commenced in a second bout of symbolic film watching without us."

"Pfft, probably. More than likely he's put on a shitty film."

"Maybe," Rose replied with the slightest hint of a smirk.

John stopped and glanced at Rose. "Uh, I think I know already but, you wouldn't tell anyone about all of this, would you?"

Rose shook her head. "Of course not, I doubt that there'd be many, besides the victims and ourselves, that would truly believe that these mixture of human and lupine beings are real. And I doubt that there would equally be as many that would see the truth in what I could possibly say in regards to this topic."

* * *

 "Bro?"

"Yeah?"

"You alright?"

Dave stood close to the kitchen doorway, his expression neutral, but his eyebrows were subtly creased. He tried to mimic Bro's poker-faced brilliance, and yet, he'd never been able to fully master it.

Bro shrugged and leant back in his chair. "Sure. I'm fine."

"You know, if... there was somethin' wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

"Yeah, course I would." He studied Dave carefully. "Why, is there something botherin' you?"

He shook his head and turned away, heading over to the fridge. "It's... nothing. Doesn't matter." He took out a bottle of apple juice, closed the fridge door, and left.

* * *

Dave wasn't chilling in his usual seat. In fact, he'd left the room. The television was blaring out about some kind of commercial or another. 

"Hey John-bo, hey Rosie." Roxy waved at them from her seat on the opposite couch.

"Oh, hey Ms Lalonde," John said with a smile.

"Thought I'd sit back and watch a bit 'a T.V. with you guys."

"Mm, delightful," Rose said, taking her seat prior to her and John's private conversation.

"Where's Dave?" John asked, plopping down beside her.

"He went to get some A.J. or somethin'. Mumbled about it before he left." Roxy leant back against the backrest, directing a cheerful smile John's way. "So, nice to meet ya, John. Didn't get time to fully introduce myself before. Had to have a convo with Bro about things."

"Using that as an excuse to drink some more, more like," Rose muttered, focusing her attention on the T.V. screen.

Roxy didn't seem to have heard. Instead, she shot a question John's way, "How do you find the Striders? They treatin' you good?"

"Uh, yeah. I enjoy spending time around here, it's pretty fun," John said.

"That's good, then. Strider can get a little clashy with his younger sibling. Don't want 'im doing something stupid, like initiating you into any of their little strifey things or somethin'."

"He's never done anything like that!"

"Well, he's done some stupid things in his time. Just gotta ask to make sure." She crossed her legs, looking curiously at John. "You talk with Bro much?"

"Yeah, we talk pretty much all the time. Why do you ask?"

"Well -"

"Yo, dudes, see that you two decided to make an entrance again after, like, over two centuries." Dave heavily sat down in-between Rose and John, setting his bottle of apple juice down upon the side-table.

"Ah, the grand Strider makes his reappearance," Rose said.

"Yup, you should be honoured that I even decided to grace you all with my grand presence, again. I could easily have decided on watchin' all of these choice films all by myself."

"We would have just picked out and watched all of the best films without you if you'd done that," John said, flashing Dave a grin.

"Pfft, yeah right. You and Rose? Pickin' out good films? Nah, without me there to nudge you two in the right film direction you'd both be watching the worst of the worst. So, that's why I decided to return, to lead y'all along the right movie path instead of the wrong one. You'd all just be totally lost without me, you know?"

John scoffed. "Yeah, right. We'd be going along an awesome movie path without your help."

"I'll show ya all a good movie," Roxy interjected.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Really? What movie could you possibly impose upon us?"

Roxy pulled her bag up onto her lap and took out a DVD from its insides.

"You guys ever watched Chicago?" she said, waving the case around.

* * *

"So, she knew." 

"Yeah, she knew. But, she's not going to tell anyone. She said as much and I believe her."

Bro grunted and looked away.

John and Bro were sat on the couch in Bro's room; he'd invited John inside after John had asked to talk to him in private.

Right now, thoughtful silence hung between them.

"Bro," John began, "she... she told me that there's a cure."

Bro looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. She told me that a werewolf has to bite the infected person when the infected person is in human form. That would draw out the venom."

"... Right."

Bro turned to stare at the T.V. screen, even though it wasn't even on. He was taking it in, thinking this cure over. John could tell from the subtle furrow to his brow, the way that he was running one hand through his hair. But, there was a trace of worry in his actions, frustration.

"Bro?"

"I'm fine. Just... you sure that's what she said?"

"That's what she told me."

"Huh." He lets his hands drop down into his lap, his expression falling back to its natural poker-faced countenance. He breathed out a sigh. "Well, shit, if that's how it is, don't know if that's..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know if there's even a way to do that. I know that Noir's gang wouldn't do it, Noir himself wouldn't accept this kind of thing. But," he turned, moving a little closer towards John, "it's worth a try."

He ruffled his hair. "Thanks, kid." The slightest hint of a smile edged its way across the corners of Bro's lips. "I'm a little closer to gettin' out of this wolfy hell."

"Hopefully," John said with a smile. "Though, really, you should be thanking Rose. She was the one that told me about this."

Bro shrugged. "But, _you_ were the one to tell _me_ about it. ... I think I'll leave out the whole werewolf chatter with Rose for a while. Not really diggin' talking with everyone we meet about stuff like this."

"Yeah, but you're not talking with everyone you meet about it, just Rose and me. Well, if you do actually talk with Rose about it..."

"I don't know, maybe."

"Well, I think you should at least consider it. Anyway," John stood up, "I've gotta go, my dad will be waiting for me."

Bro got to his feet. "Yeah, see ya later John." For a moment, he seemed to be hesitating over something, and then he pulled John into a one-armed hug. "I'll see you to the door." 

With a laugh, John hugged him back. "Alright! I better let Dave and Rose know I'm going too."

They walked out of the room together, with John casting Bro the occasional sideways smiling glance every so often.

Bro shoved his hands into his pockets as they made their way down the stairs and John leant over the side of the balcony. "Dave, Rose, I'll be leaving now!"

"Oh! 'Kay dude." They could hear Dave's swift approach and then he was there waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. "Later," he said, bumping fists with John.

"Yes, farewell, John. It was nice meeting you," Rose said, walking over to rest a hand briefly on John's shoulder.

Roxy poked her head round the living room's doorway. "Seeya John. Hope to see ya 'round soon."

"Yes, we'll be staying here for a few days, I believe," Rose said. "I hope you come around to visit."

"Of course!" John said. "I usually come round to Bro's house anyway, so I'll be seeing you again soon." He smiled. "It was awesome today! I had fun!"

"It was," Rose agreed. "And certainly an interesting genre of a day, too."

Bro opened the door for John and swept into a small bow. "The door, your majesty."

"Thanks, doorman," John said with a little laugh. "Hopefully, I'll see you all tomorrow!" He waved as he left.

By evening's light, he walked home, his mind on everything that had happened over the past few hours. Meeting Rose and Ms Lalonde, learning all about the cure... And that rare small smile Bro had given him after he'd told him all about it.  
  
He hummed quietly to himself, walking all the way back home with a light skip to his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally able to find the time to update! Sorry it's taken so long! Hopefully, I'll be able to get the next chapter out soon.
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments and/or bookmarked this work. I really appreciate it. c:


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